Hook or Me This Time!
by Nymphadora-CullenBAU
Summary: 'I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg.J.MBarrie.' An UnSub's delusions lead to Reid's unwilling role in a deadly re-enactment of a popular children's classic. Can the team find 'Peter' before 'Hook' is done?WHUMP! Complete!
1. Little Bird

**_So this is really all based on a dream I had a few nights ago; that and the new music station I created on Pandora based on the Inception movie score. I don't even know if anyone'll be interested in this story. I hope so._**

**_I own nada; just the storyline... I'm assuming..._**

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

Spencer Reid had always been afraid of the dark, and his current predicament only confirmed and deepened his fear.

He knew that he'd fit the target victimology down to nearly a tee, but he hadn't expected _this _to happen. It… unnerved him to say the least. If you wanted to say that; it unnerved him to find that his arms and legs were bound together with rope, that there was a thick wad of material stuffed into his mouth to keep him from calling out for help, and that there was more material covering his eyes, making him incapable of seeing his general surroundings. If the UnSub came for him, he was basically defenseless in every meaning of the word.

Yeah, he was unnerved, and very much so.

The case had started simply enough; four young men, ranging in age from 19 to 27 had been abducted from in and around the Walt Disney World Resort in Orlando, Florida; their bodies were always found a week later on the beach, their hands always tied behind their backs with rope. Their clothes had always varied when they were taken; jogging outfit, prep school uniform, and even a tuxedo. One victim had even been wearing his pajamas when he disappeared.

However, they had all been found wearing the same outfit: A green short-sleeved shirt and shorts with plastic leaves sewed along the material. They had also been tan, barefoot and had multiple ligature marks on their wrists and ankles.

It was Reid, Prentiss, Garcia, and surprisingly, Hotch, who'd made the connection; their UnSub was under the delusion that his victims were the fictional character Peter Pan, and the UnSub himself was the dreaded Captain Hook, from the children's classic movie, play and novel. According to the story behind the M.O, Hook had returned to extract revenge from Peter in some form. The young men were the results of the UnSub's delusions being projected onto living human beings.

However, things had taken a quick turn for the worse when Reid, while hurrying back to the SUV he'd arrived at the Resort in to question the attest victim's family, hand been attacked from behind with a wooden club.

He then awoke in what apparently felt, and sounded, like the hold of a ship. He was cold, the floor he was lying on felt wet, and no light penetrated the edges of the blindfold over his eyes. The floor was also made of real wooden planks, not linoleum, and the wooden timbers creaked and groaned around him. He also could hear the sounds of seagulls and ocean waves crashing, and the smell of salt permeated the air around him. He shivered.

Of course, they had profiled that their UnSub would have a private secondary location to keep his victims, most likely a large sea-faring vessel; they just hadn't thought that their UnSub would actually be keeping to the historical aspect of the story, and investing in a fully restored 17th century pirate ship, complete with dark, wooden brig and complementary metal bars.

Which was where Reid found himself right now, lying on the floor of some wooden vessel, unable to do anything except wait for whatever fate this UnSub had in store for him. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. He had to wonder, did the team know, did they suspect anything? They must have noticed his absence by now; he had called to let them know he was on his way back. How long ago was that? Minutes ago, hours ago? Were they looking for him?

Reid's mind flashed through the profile again, and compared this experience to his last kidnapping; at least with Tobias, there had been some reason behind the madness. Killing sinners was one thing; the delusion that you were a fictional pirate from a classic children's story, and a random 28-year-old man was your arch-nemesis, then that was another whole can of worms.

He shivered again, and began struggling against his bindings. One thing was for sure, he noted, whoever had tied these knots was very good at what he did.

Suddenly, the sound of a door swinging open reached Reid's ears, causing him to stop his movements. The footsteps of a man, most likely wearing leather boots, approached him. Reid heard splashing water as the man planted himself in front of the young agent, and a moment later, Reid felt a large, rather beefy hand grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him up from the floor.

"…Not much meat on ye, eh?" a voice growled. It sounded rough, like as old sea captain's would sound. Reid didn't respond; if this guy _was _the captain, then he, Reid, didn't want this man to have a reason to hurt him.

"Don't ya talk, laddie?" the voice continued, shaking the profiler as he spoke. Reid groaned; the shaking, coupled with the rocking of the boat, made him feel ill, and he didn't want to throw up when there was a gag in his mouth.

A second later, the hand released him, and Reid fell back on the ground, dazed. A muffled yelp escaped his mouth as he did so, and the voice chuckled darkly. Reid landed on his back with a garbled huffing noise, and immediately rolled onto his front.

"Thar ye be, boyo!' the voice crowed a second later. Reid felt the hands grab his bound hands, and he thrashed against the touch of the man; wherever this man was going, Reid wanted no part in the final destination.

A second later, the sound of a gun's safety being unlocked echoed through the hold, and Reid knew that it was aimed at him. "None o' that now," the voice reprimanded. "You seem like a smart lad, and I don' want ter put lead in yer pre'ty face, ye understand?"

Reid stopped struggling; a muffled whimper unwillingly escaped his mouth. This man, whoever he was, meant business. He had no qualms if it came to using that gun, but he clearly wasn't above using it unless necessary. He didn't want to hurt Reid; Reid was part of the delusion, but he would if the young man didn't co-operate. Yes, Reid was scared. Yes, he wanted to go home. Yes, he wanted the team to save him. But in order to allow those things to happen, Reid had to play into the guy's fantasy. He moaned an understanding reply, nodding in case the voice didn't understand.

"Come on, then," it replied, grabbing Reid's bound hands again, pulling his body toward what he assumed was the door into the brig. "Th' captain wants ter see ye."

Reid's stomach dropped from its usual spot at these words, and he uttered a soft cry that was lost in the folds of fabric within his mouth; he had assumed that the voice _was_ the captain. Did this mean they had the profile wrong?

And if so, how many more so-called 'pirates' were in on this delusion?

...

_I'm youth, I'm joy, I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: So... What did you think? Love, hate... Let me know! And just some heads-up:_

_First, JJ WILL make an appearance. Though she will not be a member of the team, we will see her! (I like her too much to not have her.) __Second, there WILL be whump! And hurt/comfort (Yes, another one of my 'whumpage attempts.') __Third... This story will mostly be from Reid's PoV. This is his experience after all. However, I will have the rest of the team pop up here and there, especially as the story continues to develop._

_So... If you want me to continue, please leave a note by clicking on that blue highlighted thingy down yonder! ...Please and thank-you! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	2. How Little We Need

_**The reviewers have spoken! Thanks guys! Here's chapter 2!**_

_**A quick note on the quotes: I'm continously using the same quote by Benjamin Franklin at the beginning of each chapter because it plays an important part in the role of this story. You'll understand later. I promise. At the end of each chapter is a quote by 'Peter Pan' creator James Barrie; I just think they fit in with the events of each chapter, plus Barrie wrote the original story. **_

_**I own nothing!**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

The temperature steadily rose the higher Reid and his captor climbed in the ship. But to Reid it didn't matter; he was using his analytical mind to rethink the team's original profile.

They had said it was only one UnSub, working under the delusion that he was Captain Hook; it turned out to be several UnSubs, at least two for sure. The 'pirates' being delusional was a given. Sadistic, possibly; Reid had yet to experience their hospitality, and from what he remembered from the autopsy results, the UnSub, now UnSubs, would greatly enjoy poking and prodding their victims with swords and other sharp objects. He could say yes to the sea-faring vessel that was their UnSub's secondary location, where he held and tortured his victims….

Reid was still pondering the changes to their profile when he realized that they had stopped moving. A moment later, he was dropped to the floor a second time. Rough hands yanked the material from his mouth and eyes, and cut the rope binding his feet together. Before he could get his bearings, Reid was shoved into blinding sunlight and a roaring wall of sound.

Unable to see, and barely able to walk, the profiler stumbled and fell, landing on the deck of what was unmistakably a pirate ship. His eyes closed, he gasped in lungful after lungful of salt-tinged fresh air; compared to this, the air below decks was stale and dank. While doing so, he managed to collect himself. He knew he would need all his mental capacity in order to outwit these men; as delusional as they were, they were smart. At the very least, they knew how to take forensic counter-measures in order to keep themselves safe from the authorities. He would just have to hold out until the team realized what had happened and came for him.

Reid took one last deep pull of air to calm his pounding heart before opening his eyes to find at least twenty men standing around him. All of them were large, muscular and, to some extent, filthy. They smelled of stale sweat and seawater and a general aura of fearfulness surrounded them. Their clothes consisted of worn-out shirts, ripped shorts and faded bandanas. At least three had eye-patches, one had a peg leg and… was that a _parrot _on that man's shoulder?

The deck of the ship itself was massive, about the size of the entire bullpen area back at the BAU. The bow lay farther ahead; if Reid was measuring it based on the dimensions of their offices back at Quantico, the bow would be the exact amount of distance away from him as his desk was from the elevators. Actually the entire section of the sixth floor that housed their unit could have fit onto the deck this ship… twice!

Reid took such a long time staring around at the sight before him that he almost didn't hear the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. He shakily got to his feet and turned to see what appeared to be a large cabin directly behind him, the captain's quarters, he realized, which apparently was the way he had come up. The captain's quarters filled the entire width of the ship, and Reid knew that it would cover the entire stern area. On either end of the edges of the captain's quarters were two sets of stairs leading to a polished wooden wheel a level above the deck where Reid currently stood. But Reid wasn't looking at the wheel, but at the man standing at the foot of the left-hand staircase, the one closest to Reid.

He was tall, thin and dressed in a fine-looking red coat with a white ruffled shirt. His pants were black and formal, matching the black boots that adorned his feet. At his waist there was a sword buckled to his side, and he wore a tri-corn leather cap with a feather in its side.

But what held Reid attention was the man's left hand, which was not a hand at all. It was a _hook._

_So that is the captain,_ Reid mused. _He's so delusional that he actually dresses like Captain Hook._

As if the arrival of the man was a signal, another pirate grabbed Reid by the scruff of his shirt and half-carried, half-dragged him over the length of the deck to deposit him in a heap at the foot of 'Hook.'

Both the pirate and the profiler looked at each other; to everyone watching, neither face displayed any emotion. Reid lay sprawled on the deck, his torso lying on his arms; he could feel his hands falling asleep. But he didn't show his discomfort; he wasn't going to let this man win.

"Stand!" The older man demanded gruffly. A second later, the sound of a pistol being cocked was heard over the sounds of the gulls crying. Warily, and with difficulty, Reid clamored to his feet. 'Hook' stood at an imposing six feet six inches, only slightly taller than the younger man's six feet and one inch. Again, neither of them spoke. Then, the older man started to laugh.

"Nice to see you again, Peter," he mockingly cooed, and Reid saw as the hook that served as the man's replacement limb, and namesake, raised itself to slowly caress his cheek, the sharpened end facing away from the profiler's face. Reid glanced at it cautiously for a moment before leveling his gaze at 'Hook,' but keeping it in his peripheral vision. He took a deep breath.

"Sir," Reid began in a calm voice, the voice he'd usually use to give a profile, or, like in this case, talk down an UnSub. "My name is not Peter. My name is Spencer Reid, and I am with the FBI."

The older man stopped, the hook raised into the air. He glanced up at it, almost marveling at the way it sparkled in the sunlight. Reid also followed the man's gaze, and only caught the evil gleam in 'Hook's' eyes when it was too late.

The hook slashed downward, cutting across the edge of Reid right shoulder and down his chest, ending at his underarm, leaving a mark through the boy's clothes and in his skin in the shape of a 'C.' Clothes that, Reid realized as he stumbled backwards to get far away from the UnSub with a yelp of pain, weren't his.

That morning, he had been wearing a plain white dress shirt with short sleeves, a red tie with white horizontal stripes, a pair of tan slacks, his usual pair of Converse and two mis-matched socks: One was green with a green argyle pattern, and the other with an alternating black and white hounds-tooth argyle pattern. Now, he was wearing a green short-sleeved tee shirt, and green Capri's, both with plastic leaves sewed into the fabric. His bare feet rested on the deck of the ship, the sunlight almost blinding him with their paleness.

But his clothes didn't worry him at the moment; he could replace them. What bothered him was the obvious absence of his gun, badge, credentials and wallet. They were the most important things he had with him; to lose them was catastrophic in the eyes of the young genius.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked, furious. "I want my clothes back! More importantly, my gun and badge!" He then turned to 'Hook.' "You don't have to do this," Reid added in a harsh undertone.

"Ye don't need 'em. You got these! Savvy?" A familiar voice taunted from behind Reid. He turned to see another pirate, a grin on his face. He recognized the voice of the man from his short captivity below decks.

_Wait! Below decks? …How long was I out? How long was I down there?_

…_Oh, no!_

Without stopping, Reid turned tail and bolted for the edge of the ship. It didn't matter which side, he just wanted to see land. He looked over the starboard side.

_Nothing but ocean._

Desperately, he turned to the port side, only to be met with the same results. He felt his insides shrivel up like dried seaweed.

_Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no…._

Reid sunk to the deck of the ship, landing on his knees and resting his head against the wooden railing as he tried to keep himself from having a full-blown panic attack in front of delusional men pretending to be pirates. He would survive this; he'd lived through worse.

_Breathe, Spencer! Breathe!_

He only just managed to catch his breath, resting his head against the wooden railing a second longer before rough hands pulled him away. Reid kicked out at his assailant as the man leaned over the profiler's lithe body, a harsh, wordless snarl emitting from his mouth as he did.

"Quiet, you!" a voice barked.

"Get off me!" Reid spat back, and rammed his head into the man's chest. A second later, harsh hands gripped his throat, and Reid gasped as black dots swam in front of his vision, his legs jackknifing as he struggled

But it didn't help; one last though drifted through Reid mind as he lost consciousness.

_This couldn't be happening._

...

_We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it. ~James M. Barrie_

...

_A/N: Hi! ...Still want more? **gestures below** All yours!_

_A quick thanks to my reviewers so far: __SayidRocks, zannabanana, RIPCURL. aus, The-Vampire-Act, lolyncut, RogueSquirrel, RavenParadox, SSAFunbar, TheOneThatIsAddidctedToHPFics, Noel Ardnek, 68luvcarter, and KASEY64! Love ya! :D_

_Chapter 3: We catch up with the team, and Reid meets a less-than-willing-to-participate crew member. (I dunno if that second half will be part of chapter 3, or if I'll make it a seperate chapter)_

_And for all you Harry Potter fans... Who's Psyched For Thursday?_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	3. The Best of Us

**_My handy, dandy, trusty old laptop won't open FF up for me, and I had to use a school computer to put this chapter up. And as soon as it's up, I have to go. So I'm quite literally posting this, and then getting ready to see Deathly Hallows Part 1! Thanks for waiting, everyone!_**

**_Here's Chapter 3... In which the team figures out what's gone down... :D_**

**_Again, I own nothing!_**

...

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

It was cool again. But he was lying on fabric, not bare wood. A cool cloth was placed on the cut on his chest and he gasped, shivering. It was then that he realized that he was shirtless.

"Just relax," a voice whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" he asked.

The voice shushed him gently. "Don't worry, you'll be fine; I'm here to help. Just rest."

::::

"Wasn't Reid supposed to be back by now?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan glanced up at the clock in the Orlando Police Department conference room that was the team's current gathering place for the duration of this case.

"Maybe the interview took longer than we thought," Morgan calmly stated. "I mean, our last victim, Nathan Smalls, was on vacation with his family; he was the Best Man at his older brother's wedding. Reid probably has questions for a majority of the family."

"Morgan, most of Small's family's gone back to Montana by now; it was just a few members of the wedding party who planned to vacation here for a few days who were left when we came in."

"Well… Maybe they have a lot to say," Morgan replied lamely. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Look, Hotch is on his way back from the marina, and Rossi should be back soon from the morgue; I'll call Garcia and see if she can track Reid's phone. You can call him right now yourself if it makes you feel better."

Morgan chuckled slightly as he got out his phone. "Knowing the kid, he probably stopped somewhere to get coffee."

"Can't say I blame him," Prentiss added, taking a drink of the cop station coffee and wincing. "This stuff tastes worse than the past due milk I bought last week."

"How did that happen?" Rossi asked as he came into the room.

Emily set her mug down, frowning. "The store manager wasn't cheap or anything; the stock guys just forgot to take off the bad cartons."

Morgan grinned as he placed his cell phone to his ear. A moment later, his smile lost a bit of it's vibrancy as he listened to a voice message.

_This is Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name, number and a brief message, and I'll get back to you soon. Thank you._

What followed was an automated message, and the beep of the recorder starting. Morgan left a message.

"Reid?" Morgan asked. "Is everything alright? Call me when you get this."

Morgan hung up as Hotch walked in. "Where's Reid?" he asked. "He called me earlier this afternoon saying that he was on his way here."

"No idea," Prentiss replied, starting to dial her own phone. "I was about to call Garcia and have her trace his phone."

"Good, get on that." Hotch replied, already walking toward the board, taking out his own phone to punch in Reid's number. It rang four times before the message replayed itself.

_This is Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. I'm sorry I missed your call. Please leave your name…._

Hotch hung up; he wasn't going to leave a message if Morgan already had.

"Hey, Hotch," Rossi said suddenly. "I just thought of something. Reid fits the victimology of the other victims almost perfectly. He's young, late twenties, but looks much younger. He's thin, quiet, and shy, but when confronted by someone, he can easily talk back to them. Just like the other victims."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.

"When Garcia goes to trace Reid's phone, have her trace the SUV he took," Rossi replied, turning to Prentiss as he spoke. "All the victims' personal effects were found in their rental cars, or on the monorail. Phones, wallets, clothes… everything."

Hotch looked at the older man in surprise. "Why didn't we think of this sooner, Dave? We could've taken him out of the field, told him to stay here at the station, that if he was going somewhere, he should take one of us."

"He would've thrown a fit, Hotch!" Morgan cried, standing up. "He doesn't like being babied! You of all people should know that!"

"Morgan's right," Rossi added. "Reid likes being independent; he's been taking care of himself and his mother from a very young age. He wouldn't want us looking over his shoulder for him."

"Well what do you think he would've said six hours ago if he'd known this would happen?" Hotch cried, exasperated.

Silence reigned in the conference room for a moment before a perky voice spoke up.

"Hello, my pretties!" Garcia crowed. "What can I do ya for?"

"Garcia, we need you to trace Reid's phone, and the SUV he took."

There was silence for a moment before she answered. "Both the phone and the car register somewhere in the Walt Disney World Park… They're right on top of each other."

"We have to go!' Hotch growled. "Garcia!"

"Yes, sir!"

"We're going to need you to come down here and make a statement. If Reid's been taken by the UnSub, we're going to need more manpower here than we have now."

"Yessir! I'm a coming! I'm a coming!" And with that, she hung up.

Twenty five minutes later, the team had pulled up in front of the Contemporary Resort with the Orlando PD, who was cordoning off an area of sidewalk.

One of the officers pulled Hotch to the side, whispering something in his ear as Rossi, Prentiss and Morgan headed for the black SUV near the front of the parking lot.

Grimly, Morgan scrolled through his contacts until he found, and hit Reid's number. Prentiss approached the vehicle, starting slightly as a cheery tune blasted from inside. Tentitavly, she reached through the open window, and unlocked the car.

Inside, Reid's shirt, tie, pants, shoes and socks were thrown haphazardly around in the vehicle. On top of the shirt were his badge, wallet and gun. Prentiss turned away, looking slightly ill.

Morgan closed his phone, cursing softly, and Rossi slowly lowered his gun. "Damn," he muttered grimly.

Hotch ran over, staring at the scene with tired eyes. "Crime scene units are taking blood samples," he whispered. "There's no doubt that it's Reid's blood, but they want to make sure."

Morgan clenched his fists, shaking slightly. "I wanna catch this son of a bitch," he hissed. "And I want it done now!"

….

_We are all of us failures, at least, the best of us are. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: ...Should I continue? Morgan seems like he wants to rip someone's head off, and I kinda wanna give him that chance..._

_And thanks to all my awesome chapter 2 reviews! ... lolyncut, Noel Ardnek, RavenParadox, danicalif, SayidRocks, RIPCURL. aus, 68luvcarter, SSAFunbar, and zannabanana! You guys rock! :D_

_Hope you all come back and review! ...Please?_

_Good-night!_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	4. Kinder Than Necessary

_**I am still in awe of Deathly Hallows Part 1! I thought it was AMAZING! Part 2 can't come fast enough; I really wanna see it now! :D**_

_**And because some people have been asking so nicely, I'm posting a timeline: Basically, the last victim is discovered around sunrise on the beach. Hotch sends Reid to interview the family at about 8:30-9:00. He spends 25 minutes getting there, and an hour with the family, finishing at 10:00-10:30. When Reid leaves the hotel, the UnSub grabs him. It takes the UnSub a few minutes to get Reid into the Peter Pan clothes, and a couple hours to get him out of Orlando, onto the ship, and into the ocean. So by the time Reid wakes up, it's about 2:30 in the afternoon. **_

_**Did I mention that I swear I JUST saw a picture of MGG dressed as a pirate? Honest... He had an eyepatch and everything! Even an earring! It was COOL! :D**_

_**I don't own... Anything! Except my OC (Who is male, BTW... Although I may introduce a female OC (or two) into the mix). :D**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

Reid had always been adamant that a gunshot to the leg was one of the most painful experiences a person could go through. When it first happened, you'd be in so much pain, that all you could do was try your best not to scream. He could also tell you that one of the hardest fights you could fight was a drug addiction. The cravings were unbearable, and going against the urge to get high was a daily struggle that he went through almost daily.

How very wrong he was. On both counts, he was oh so very wrong.

Now, the most painful experience he could think of was that of a delusional man slashing through a thin cotton tee shirt with a sharpened hook into Reid's own unprotected chest, the razor-sharp metal cutting the young man's pale flesh like butter. And the hardest fight he could think of was the fact that, on this ship, he wasn't SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI agent, BAU Profiler. To the people on this ship, he was a fictional character from a novel, a boy who could never grow up.

_I bet Peter Pan never had to worry about this sort of thing,_ the young profiler thought grimly. _He knew who he was; there wasn't anyone thinking he was someone he wasn't._

A second later, the cool cloth, which by now had warmed to the temperature of his skin, was removed; there was the sound of someone dipping something into a pale, followed by the sounds of water ringing from a cloth, and it was reapplied a moment later. Again, Reid gasped in surprise as he felt loose drops of water ran down the side of Reid's chest; not only was the water cold, but it stung his wound, like salt.

"It's co- …Ow!" Reid hissed. "It stings!"

"I'm sorry about that," a voice replied fearfully. "I know it must sting, but saltwater is really all we have; all the clear water is used for drinking; but it'll keep the wound clean, so you won't have to worry about infections."

Reid blearily opened his eyes to see the speaker; a young man, only a few years younger than Spencer himself, patiently watched over him, the concern in his voice echoed by the concern in his clear blue eyes. There was a fringe of short, untidy dark brown, almost black hair sticking out from his forehead, and a similar shadow of hair lightly dusted his lip and chin. His face was thin, and the shape of his body beneath the tee shirt and denim shorts reflected that. Like Reid, he too was barefoot, and his skin was pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in ages….

"Who are you?" Reid whispered.

The boy lifted Reid's head up with one hand, and presented a bottle of water to him with the other. "I'm Johnny," the boy answered. "Drink. You're going to need your strength."

Reid took a sip, and refreshing clear water cascaded down his throat; he hadn't realized how parched he was. "I'm Spencer," he said, coming up for air.

Johnny nodded. "I heard you, when you were trying to talk him down."

"Hook, you mean." Reid stated.

Johnny scoffed, tipping the water bottle back toward Reid's moth as he spoke. "Yeah, that's what he calls himself. But he's really my uncle James. He and his wife Angela took me and my brother Daniel in after our parents died in a fire. He was really into the whole story of Peter Pan; it was the story he told my brother and me when we were growing up."

"Hook's Christian name, according to Barrie's novel, was James," Reid intoned, his hand weakly pushing the water bottle away. "The only reason he changed it to Hook was because Peter Pan chopped off his left hand and fed it to a crocodile, which later ate Hook's alarm clock, and went around the fictional island of NeverLand, ticking out a warning that Hook heard and trembled from. The crocodile was the only thing he feared."

"And Peter and the Lost Boys were the only things he hated, and would always try to find them and their hideout, and do them in." Johnny added, taking the water bottle and tucking it under his arm.

Johnny placed Reid's head back on the floor, setting the bottle aside. "But a few years ago, my brother and aunt were out driving, and they were hit by a drunk driver head-on." Johnny paused, throwing Reid a hang-dog look. "They both died at the scene. The driver of the other car held on for a week before his family shut him down."

"What about your uncle?" Reid asked.

Johnny shrugged. "He sunk deeper into the story of Peter Pan. He bought period style clothes and would wear them proudly around the house. He got a large settlement from the accident, and bought, renovated and restored a real 18th century pirate ship. I was away at college when he was doing this. I kept taking classes so I wouldn't have to go home; I thought he was handling it better than I thought he was."

Reid winced; he thought of his mother, who had hidden in her mind while he had been away at school. She hadn't been grieving the loss of any beloved family member, but she had done things when he hadn't been around to help her. Reid felt that he could relate to Johnny when it came to his story. "How did you get on this ship?" he asked.

Johnny sighed, folding his arms around his body as he spoke. "I came back after graduation intent on writing a book similar to the story of Peter Pan, but I saw all this, and watched him cut his hand off. I couldn't let it go on, so I put my uncle in a home. I was planning on selling off his things; the clothes and other period items would go to costume shops, secondhand stores and some would even go to a museum, and then I'd sell the boat for scrap."

"But…" Reid began.

Johnny nodded. "But then my uncle escaped from the home with some patients, with help from some of his old friends, and they took over the ship. They kidnapped me and hid me under here. I spent about two weeks alone before the first guy dressed like you appeared," Johnny added miserably, gesturing at the wall Spencer was leaning on; there were marks in the wood, counting off days. "Now I just sit here, and tend to the injuries my uncle inflicts on you guys, and lose more hope with each victim."

Reid leaned away from the wall, his eyes quickly darting across it. "There's 42 days ticked off here," Reid pointed out as he glanced at the marked boards.

Johnny nodded, turning to look at the wall himself. "And my uncle always sticks to the same pattern. In seven days, you'll be gone and the count will be 49. And Spencer," Reid turned to look at Johnny, who seemed to have tears in his eyes. "I don't want you to be number five."

...

_Always be a little kinder than necessary.__ ~James M. Barrie_

...

_A/N: ...Do you want more? The blue button down there didn't get popcorn at the theatre on Thursday night; some reviews might cheer it up._

_Thanks to all my awesome reviewers! PinkHimeLacus, lolyncut, Noel Ardnek, 68luvcarter, danicalif80, amomentintime3, zannabanana, SayidRocks, cmsp, SSAFunbar and The-Vampire-Act_

_And a reply for cmsp, since I can't PM you: Hotch can talk a room into silence, apparently haha... And Morgan always seems to speak wisdom when it comes to Reid. As for what will happen next... You'll have to wait and see. But I promise it'll be fun! :D_

_Next few chapters: Hold onto your hats, JJ fans! Our favorite Media Liasion makes an appearance! Plus the return of Hook, more on Johnny, Reid whump, and Garcia holds a press conference!_

_And... Can you all guess where I got 'Johnny' from? Chocolate brownies for those who guess correctly. (I'm also posting a picture of 'Johnny' on my profile, if you want to see it. And Hook; I have a perfect actor for Hook!)_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	5. Knowing Everything

_**I didn't update until now because I was taking a break; I was swamped by homework up until Thanksgiving Break, and I just... dropped off the face of the earth... Went to Pandora for a bit (Yep, I finally saw 'Avatar' this weekend). Pretty country. Anyway... **_

_**...But the good news is, I'm back! ...And so is JJ in this chapter (She may be gone on the show, but I still wanted her to be part of this story in some capacity; I like her too much to let her leave just yet)!**_

_**Warnings for whump... Maybe spoilers if you squint...**_

_**Again, nothing is mine; I just play in the sandbox in my free time (If I don't have classes or homework). I promise to put everything back. Scout's honor! :D**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

As soon as they'd arrived at the station, Hotch had ordered an update on the profile, and that the results of all tests on evidence found at this last crime scene were to come directly to him. Finally, they checked the security cameras in front of the Resort; it was worse than they'd imagined.

They had watched Reid leave the hotel and walk toward his car, calling Hotch as he did so. As soon as the phone had been put away, a man with a baseball bat had crept up behind the retreating profiler and smacked him over the head. Reid had fallen to the ground like a Christmas tree, his head hitting the pavement, hard; the bruise created by the bat was minimal when compared to the small gash on the side of Reid's head.

At least they'd found the source of the blood spatter on the concrete outside the hotel.

Then, a second man showed up to help drag Reid toward another vehicle, the SUV, the realized, where they'd stripped him of everything but his boxers, and clothed him in a green tee shirt and pants similar to those of the other victims, down to the leaves sewn onto the material, before another car pulled up next to the Bureau-issue SUV where the first man was now stuffing Reid's clothes into the back seat.

A third man got out, helped the other two restrain Reid's hands and feet, blindfold and gag him and finally the three UnSubs threw him into the car before they all piled into the vehicle and sped off, leaving the camera footage to run for four more hours before Orlando PD and the BAU arrived to discover the gristly scene.

"Multiple UnSubs," Rossi had growled, shaking his head in disbelief. Prentiss had tried to put on her mask, the one she wore when compartmentalizing, but the mask had cracked long before she had it in place; it didn't take a profiler to see the tears sparkling in her eyes. Morgan had run his hand over his bald head before pounding on the table of the conference room and storming out into the station, a look of pure fury alight on his face. Hotch had slumped into his seat, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to even out his breathing before he lost himself to the grief and rage building in his chest.

Not since Foyet, he mused, or even Frank, had things been this bad. Not with Bale, or even the Fisher King, had they felt so lost. Not even with the blackouts in Los Angeles, when Billy Flynn had taken Ellie, and killed Matt Spicer had they felt so helpless. And things hadn't felt so dark before... not since Tobias Hankel, and that shack in rural Georiga.

::::

It was late in the evening, not long after midnight, by the time Garcia's flight landed in Orlando, and Morgan had arrived to pick her up. She stood by the luggage carousal, tapping her foot impatiently as he hurried toward her. She looked as though she was about to start crying; he chest heaving with short breaths as she tried to remain strong.

"Do you need me to get anything for you?" He asked, taking her in an embrace. He felt her collapse in his arms, moaning as if in pain. "Hey, Mama," he whispered, tilting her head up to face him, there were faint tear tracks on her cheeks. "We'll get him back; we'll find the bastards so fast that they won't even know what hit them. I promise."

"Morgan, I came as soon as I could," she began in earnest. "The moment you called, I started packing. I booked the first flight I could get and I was just walking out the door when I remembered… And I couldn't leave her hanging… We'd planned this lunch date for so long, and as soon as I called her, she knew something was up, Derek… I tried to tell her no, but of course she insisted… What was I supposed to tell her?"

"Whoa!" Morgan began. "Garcia, slow down Baby-girl. I'm sure everything sorted… itself…." Morgan looked over Garcia's shoulder, and did a double-take before finishing his sentence. "…Out."

Because walking away from the carousal, her rolling suitcase trailing behind her as she came, was JJ.

"If anyone asks," JJ explained. "I'm a concerned third party that is involved with the investigation, simply a civilian who knows Spence."

"You wanna help?" Morgan asked.

"In any capacity possible," JJ replied. "I'm not going to stand around when I know he's in trouble."

"Does Hotch know? Or Rossi, or Emily?"

"They will."

Morgan nodded. "…What about your luggage?" he asked, nodding toward JJ's suitcase; Garcia was still enfolded within his embrace.

JJ smiled; it was forced rather than the easy smile that she usually put on for them. "I got it," she told him as she strolled past.

::::

Reid opened his eyes to feel sunlight warming and blinding his face. He scrunched his eyes closed, furrowing his eyebrows as he rose from the wood floor.

"You get used to it," Johnny's voice explained softly from the corner of the room. A second later, there was a scratching noise being made in the wood. Reid raised one hand to shade his eyes and saw Johnny using a small piece of chalk to mark that another day had passed. Reid glanced over the marks. Yesterday there had been 42 vertical and diagonal lines across the wall, and with the addition of the one Johnny was now marking, there were now 43. For the first time, Reid glanced around the room.

It wasn't very big, about six and a half to seven feet long and six feet wide. The floor, walls and ceiling were all made of wood and there was a door also made of wood on the right hand side of where Reid was standing. Old metal grating near the edge of the ceiling explained the sunlight shining on his face

_Six more days,_ Reid mused for a second before the sound of a door slamming, and heavy booted footsteps were heard walking toward their room. The door opened to reveal a buff man with a thick beard and a scowl who pointed at Reid and beckoned him toward the door.

Reid rose stiffly, glaring at the man in front of him for a moment before making his way forward. The other man's hand fisted on the back of Reid's shirt and shoved him unceremoniously into the hall, straight into the waiting arms of two more 'pirates,' who then proceeded to drag the younger man from his quarters and toward the deck; Reid heard Johnny yell something offensive toward one of their burly captors before the wooden door was slammed shut and locked with a wooden bolt across the wooden door.

Again, the sun hit the young profiler head on, and he tripped when the 'pirates' shoved him out onto the deck, stumbling and falling to his knees. An uproar of laughter echoed across the deck, and Reid, reminded of his high school days, moved to stand up, to stop the jeering, peerless laughter and prove he wasn't weak….

….Only to be stopped when the ice-cold blade of a sword was rested in the pale patch of skin between the collar of Reid's shirt and the base of his neck.

"Hello, Peter," the voice of 'Hook' whispered in the boy's ear. "Sleep well?"

The other 'pirates' continued to laugh and jeer as their leader towered over the younger man. 'Hook' smiled at them for a moment before setting another sword down, the hilt facing Reid. He stepped back, watching Reid as he glanced at the sword lying in front of him.

Many thoughts flew through Spencer's genius mind; true, he did not know how to use a sword, and could admit that he'd never handled a sword in his life, unless you counted the sword buried within the chest of the late Frank Giles, one of the 'un-repentive bad men' that had led the team to The Fisher King, a past UnSub with similar delusions to the UnSub Reid was dealing with now.

But, he knew the theory behind swordplay, the way to hold a sword, the stance a swordfighter took; the many hours spent reading his mother's many books on 16th Century Literature had helped in that case. While recovering from being shot in the knee, he'd gone to the local gym for extra physical therapy, and because the pool was used about as often as the Potomac River during 'Free Swim,' and had watched some fencing classes, and of course had been dragged into mock Lightsaber fights with some of the young men in his apartment over the years; Jordan Lee, a college student on his floor, had a passion for _Star Wars._

But now, lying on the deck of a ship, Reid eyed the sword, remembering the last run-in with an instrument like this…

'_Till the Hour be None…. _

…_.Can you forgive yourself, Mr. Garner?_

Reid reached for the sword, his eyes shut against the glare of the sun.

_Can I forgive myself …No, I can't_

_A flash of light… pain…_

Reid opened his eyes to see 'Hook's' booted foot standing on his outreached hand, pressing it hard into the deck of the ship. Reid yowled, instinctively bringing his hand into his body and curling into a ball. Seconds later, he felt boots jabbing and kicking into his body. He lashed out, his fists and bare feet returning blows of their own. Someone grabbed both his slender hands in one meaty palm, and Reid once again felt coarse rope wrapping itself around his wrists.

"NO!" he yelled, and a second hand slapped itself around his mouth. Reid bit down until he tasted blood, and spat as the hand was quickly removed, the owner howling in pain. Someone's boot connected with Reid's skull and he blacked out once again.

...

_I am not young enough to know everything. ~James M. Barrie_

...

_A/N: ...Are you wanting more? _

_Special thanks to my reviewers: CMSP, The-Vampire-Act, Noel Ardnek, SayidRocks, SSAFunbar, 68luvcarter, zannabanana and ripcurl. aus! You are so amazing! :D_

_And for my anonymous reviewers: _  
_CMSP: It's not that Johnny doesn't help; he simply cannot help. His uncle keeps him locked in that room all the time, and his only companions are his chalk, the days he counts, and the victims he comforts and heals. He can't fight back, but he wants to, especially with Reid now in there with him. _  
_RIPCURL. aus: I'm glad you like Johnny. And yes, Morgan will most likely put his emotions behind him... But it doesn't mean they won't resurface later. It's why I love writing Morgan as a character so much; he's fun to write for when he's in a good mood, and a force to be reckoned with on a case (especially when Reid's involved)._

_...Reviews are like leftover homemade cranberry sauce and stuffing, delish! And... No one's guessed where I got Johnny from (someone came really close, though... He is a pirate, of course... And loves his rum... Savvy?) :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	6. Roses in December

**_Hasselhoff as Hook? ...Nope, not seeing it, Yahoo!_**

**_And I'm sorry this is so late, but recently I've been working on final exams (essay questions for Philosophy, research paper for Lit Theory, test and EC paper for Mythology, and lots more writing for Voice...) I'm all but dead on my feet, so everything I'm doing is taking longer than usual... But I'll for sure have more time later this week!_**

**_Nothing is mine; it's all CBS! _**

**_And sorry for the lack of Reid in this chapter; I just wanted to get the press conference out of the way as quickly as possible... Next chapter will have more Reid! :D_**

...

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

Cameras flashed and voices echoed outside the Orlando PD office. JJ stood off to the side with the rest of the team, minus Morgan, who stood next to the podium; his body appeared relaxed, but those who knew him well could see the tight, tense way his jaw was set, the way his fists were clenched. To him, all this pomp and circumstance were irrelevant when it came to the safety of his friend, fellow agent… and brother in all but blood.

It was the end of the second day, and there were still no leads as to where Reid was. And what was worse was that the press had gotten wind of the story and every single station in Florida was now running away with it. With Reid's abduction, they had already planned on releasing a statement to the public, but now they had no choice in the matter of a press conference. It was time to step up and face the music, or let their entire investigation fly out the window.

Garcia stepped out of the police station, walking swiftly toward the podium. Immediately, cameras flashed with a new intensity, the voices of reporters began asking, probing, harried questions. But Garcia ignored them all. She wore a black skirt, high-heeled black shoes and black tights, a dark blue blouse with a white fringe along the V-neck collar, and a matching dark blue pendant on a silver chain around her neck. Earrings of the same color glinted in her ears. Her eyes were free of her glasses and her red hair was pulled into a simple bun with a pair of wooden chopsticks threaded into the smart style. In her hands she carried a plain manila folder.

JJ felt a swift surge of pride for her friend; if anyone besides JJ herself could take on these buzzards, it was Penelope Garcia.

The redhead rested her hands on the podium, opening the folder in her hands as she gazed out at the small sea of faces that watched her every move, waiting to see what she had to say.

"Yesterday morning," she began, her eyes never leaving the masses of people in front of her. "Around 10:30 outside the Contemporaty Resort inside the Walt Disney World Resort Theme Park, one of our agents was taken."

"Miss Garcia," one reporter asked. "Are you releasing the name of the agent that was taken?"

"As of now, we are not releasing that information to the public; the FBI would prefer that the privacy of the agent in question not be violated."

"When will you tell us who he is?"

"Is it true that the agent in question is under the age of 30?"

"Miss Garcia, does your agent resemble the previous victims in any way?"

"How high a priority is the abduction of you agent in comparison to the abductions of the last four victims?"

"The FBI is holding the agent's name, age and other identifying features from the press indefinitely," Garcia began. "And the public can be rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to find the men responsible for the abductions of all five victims, and the murders of all four.

"As of this moment, our team has a working profile of the kidnappers that we will be releasing to the public. There are multiple offenders, all under the delusion that they are pirates-"

"Excuse me, Miss Garcia, but did you just say 'pirates?'" One reporter asked.

"-But only one of them is smart enough to pull this off." Garcia continued as though the man had not cut her off. "He is a white male in his mid-forties to late fifties who may have recently suffered a major and devastating loss that he has not recovered from. He is extremely obsessed with the literary work _Peter Pan,_ as well as any companion novels and media. His delusions, along with his obsession, have led him to believe that five young men, including an FBI agent, are Hook's nemesis Peter Pan himself. He will most likely dress as a pirate, talk like a pirate and has probably mutilated his body in some way to resemble that of Captain Hook?"

"Are you saying," The reported who had spoken before had one again interjected with a question "that the killer of those boys is _Captain Hook!_"

Garcia chose to ignore him again. "We are asking that the entire city of Orlando, as well as the residents of the Walt Disney World Resort, keep an eye out for anyone who may fit this description. I will now take some questions."

"So this man has most likely cut off his left hand and replaced it with a hook?" a woman asked with disgust.

"That is correct," Garcia confirmed.

"Miss Garcia," the reporter who had spoken out of context twice before was back, and determined to get an answer for a question. "Is it true that this same agent was taken from under the nose of the FBI once before, and by a Mister Tobias Hankel?"

Garcia felt the blood drain from her face; from the corner of her eye, Morgan, who had been standing stock still throughout the conference, twitched, and one of his fists clenched as though he planned on sinking it into the man's stomach or face."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that any agent on this team was taken by a Tobias Hankel in 2007, let alone the same agent," Garcia replied, trying to keep her voice strong. "That is all the questions I will take tonight." And with that, she walked across the stage in as composed a manner as possible.

Morgan could see that she was trying hard to keep from breaking into a run to get away from the reporter who had asked about Georgia, and about Tobias.

He walked out in the other direction, meeting her inside the conference room the team had set up at the beginning of the case. She was blotting at her makeup as tears smudged the mascara. Her hair had fallen from its bun and the chopsticks lay forgotten on the table, obviously having been ripped from her hair after she had walked into the room.

"I cannot believe that… that…" Garcia choked out, gasping as she tried to contain her tears. "He asked about… He asked if Reid had been taken before, and he didn't even _sound _concerned." She sniffled. "I mean… He's _Reid,_ Derek! He's just a k-kid compared to the rest of us. And h-he's a-a-alone… in s-some sicko's lair… h-h-h-having God k-knows w-what being done to him! And it's happened b-b-be-before!"

Morgan wrapped his arms around Garcia's shoulders, pressing her against his chest and rocking her gently from side to side as she wept.

"You're right," he whispered. "That reporter had no right asking about Reid's other experiences with an UnSub and bringing up those dark memories. He was only doing his job, but he wasn't supposed to know about Hankel. But those guys…" he gestured outside the police station. "They don't know our boy like you and I do, like Hotch and Rossi, or Prentiss and JJ know him. They don't know how well he plays chess, or that he's got a mother in Bennington who loves him and a father who wants to bond with him after 17 years. They dunno how smart he is, or how he takes his coffee, or his favorite color."

"He has an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and reads 20,000 words per minute," Garcia recited. "He takes his coffee tall, with lots of sugar, especially if he's had nightmares. And he loves the color purple, especially lavender."

"They don't know that he does magic tricks to pass the time…" Morgan said.

"He doesn't know what _Twilight _is…" Garcia hiccupped.

"He loves Halloween…" Morgan added.

"He knows all sorts of obscure facts…" Garcia whispered, wiping her eyes again.

"See?" Morgan whispered. "They'll never know our boy like we do. And we're gonna get him back. You'll see. We'll get him back, Penelope, I promise."

...

_God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.__ ~James M. Barrie_

...

_A/N: ...I probably won't update this until after the new year starts; I want to get those contest entries taken care of!_

_Thanks to my reviewers: danicalif80, The-Vampire-Act, Noel Ardnek, zannabanana, SSAFunbar, ripcurl. aus, 68luvcarter, SayidRocks, pottyandweezlby89, and Juliette Shane! Thank you for waiting so patiently for me to post this! And thanks to everyone who has been adding this to favorites and alerts! :D_

_...And yes, everyone figured out who Johnny was... Did you know that there's gonna be a Pirates 4, and Johnny Depp is back as Jack? I love Jack... Not as much as I love Reid, but still... I love Jack! And yes... Jordan Lee is a shoutout to Harry Potter!_

_Next few chapters: More whump, the team gets a lead and Reid tries his hand at swordplay._

_Review!_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	7. A Lesson in Humility

**_Okay… So I originally was going to make this into two chapters; the entire thing rounded out at over 2,000 words (Without quotes and author's notes). But I did promise you all a great big dose of Reid last chapter, since he wasn't there last time. And I haven't updated this story since… last year (Yes, bad joke, I know). Which means that you receive a nice long chapter to start out the New Year!_**

**_I didn't ask for Criminal Minds for Christmas; I just asked for a season. Now I have a tee shirt and Season 5 (Which means: Continuous Mosley Lane Marathon!), but otherwise, I don't own Criminal Minds._**

::::

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

The moon glowed brightly, its form and grace echoed in the waters of the midnight ocean. Clouds were gathering for a midnight storm, but the moon still kept watch on the world.

Beneath the moon's light was a small leisure boat, complete with a small cabin for her two passengers. Linda and Connor Holden were enjoying the last night of the first part of a small honeymoon they had planned; after being married in a small chapel in Rockport, they had driven to Corpus Christi to retrieve Connor's boat, and begin a month-long romantic getaway to Miami. They had been married about 34 hours, and were already looking forward to exotic drinks and sandy beaches. The boat was simply their means of getting there and back.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Connor asked his new wife as she sat next to him, laying her head on his shoulder as he slowly steered the boat toward its final destination. "If you want me to, I can do a George Bailey and try to throw a lasso around that beautiful moon, bring it closer to us."

Linda smiled up at her new husband. "Actually, I think it's just perfect, but I'm more than happy to see if I can find something for you to make that lasso."

He chuckled. "I'd do anything for you, my Lindy-Lou!"

She playfully smacked him before her eyes glanced at the open water before them. She paused, a fine patch of wrinkles clouding her forehead as she looked. She snuck a glance at the GPS before doing a double take at what she saw in front of her.

"Hey Con-Con," she asked. "Where are we?"

"Lemmie see… We're just off the coast of Orlando. My friend Devon lives by the shore here, and I was thinking we could drop anchor by his place; he's visiting family in Jacksonville so we can rest there in our boat and go out for breakfast in the morning. He said it was alright."

"Are we supposed to see land now?"

"No, there's nothing to be seen, not for a bit. Why?" He was concerned; there was something in the way Linda was asking these questions that was putting him on edge. "Are you alright?"

"I _feel _fine," she admitted. "But… I want to know…."

"Know what, Love?"

She took a deep breath. "Connor, why is there a… _Pirate Ship _sailing in this direction?"

As she spoke, the ship came into view. A majestic schooner, complete with sails, rigging and mast, she was a beautiful sight in the moonlight. She had dropped anchor and the sails were folded away, but she still was awe-inspiring and breath-taking.

"Oh, my God…" Linda murmured. "Holy… Connor, get the camera! Get the Camera!"

As Connor fumbled with the cubbyholes beneath the wheel, he accidently knocked over the Sirius Satellite Radio that they had been listening to earlier that day. Connor had turned it to a news station earlier the evening to gauge the weather conditions for the evening; it was supposed to rain, and the clouds moving in above proved the oncoming storm. Now, the radio was broadcasting the news, and from the sound of it, it was a press conference being held by the FBI.

"…_As of this moment, our team has a working profile of the kidnappers that we will be releasing to the public. There are multiple offenders, all under the delusion that they are pirates-" _

Connor stared in renewed horror at the ship in front of them, his mouth open wide enough to catch a fly, while Linda let out a choked sob, he hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

"_-But only one of them is smart enough to pull this off. He is a white male in his mid-forties to late fifties who may have recently suffered a major and devastating loss that he has not recovered from. He is extremely obsessed with the literary work Peter Pan, as well as any companion novels and media. _

Connor fumbled with the camera, turning it on and setting it to night settings before handing it to Linda. She immediately began snapping pictures, her fingers shaking as she did so.

"_His delusions, along with his obsession, have led him to believe that five young men, including an FBI agent, are Hook's nemesis Peter Pan himself. He will most likely dress as a pirate, talk like a pirate and has probably mutilated his body in some way to resemble that of Captain Hook…. We are asking that the entire city of Orlando, as well as the residents of the Walt Disney World Resort, keep an eye out for anyone who may fit this description…."_

By now, Linda was whimpering as she looked up at the ship. Connor was also looking rather pale and frightened. But even as they stared, they heard shouting, laughter and someone screaming in pain from the deck of the ship.

"We should do something!" Linda cried, wincing as the screams continued. She switched the settings on the camera from picture to video and began recording. "Whoever he is, he's in pain." Connor didn't speak for a few minutes; he couldn't say anything. Instead, he walked over to his wife, wrapped his arms around her for a moment and kissed her before he started the boat.

"We'll tell the cops, the FBI and the Coast Guard," Connor said, wincing at the inhuman screams and jeering laughter coming from the ship. Meanwhile, the radio had returned to the main late-night reporter.

"_That was Special Agent Penelope Garcia with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, or the BAU. The team was called to Orlando Wednesday morning to help with the recent rash of murders that appear to be based on a children's story. So far, four young men have been abducted and murdered, along with a member of the team as a fifth victim who is currently missing, presumed alive."_

As they pulled away, the clouds unleashed their heavy burden, and it began to rain.

::::

Reid came around just after sunset. His head hurt, his body hurt, and his wrists were covered in blisters and rope burns; Johnny had cut away the rope from earlier that morning. Johnny had also tended him the best he could, but without proper medicines, it was hard. As the sky darkened, the pain in Reid's body lessened to a dull, throbbing ache.

The most terrifying part of the evening came when the moon was starting to peek in through the grating that covered the ceiling. As the two were drifting off to sleep, the sound of booted feet stormed toward their door. It was thrust open, and a second later, both boys were grabbed by thickset men who smelled like stale sweat and alcohol. Reid kicked out at his captor, a blonde man with hate-filled eyes, and a bandage wrapped around the fleshy part of his palm; Reid had a feeling that this was the man he had bitten earlier. Johnny was being handled by the black-bearded one that had dragged Reid up to the deck that first time.

They were rushed up the stairs and quickly thrust onto the deck, where the other 'pirates' were waiting. No sooner were they on deck were they grabbed by different men; Reid lost sight of Johnny as he went one way, back toward the cabin, and he was taken toward the bow. Suddenly, he was shoved to the ground, and someone was holding down his wrists; there were another man holding down his ankles, and a second later, he felt someone sitting on his legs. He shouted as the weight of the 'pirate' rested on his injured leg.

"Get… Off!" Reid snarled, forcing his uninjured knee to jab at the guy with as much force as possible. There was a gasp, and the man rolled off the profiler to land on the deck of the ship, his mouth agape, grasping his groin with both hands.

There was a split second where a feeling of triumph came over Reid before a third set of hands yanked his shirt up and the cool feeling of a blade ran up and down his unprotected stomach.

A blade… or a hook.

"Hello, Peter," whispered the voice of 'Hook' from the darkness. "Miss me?"

Reid glared. "For the last time," he hissed. "My name is not _Peter!_ And you're not Captain Hook, James!"

A second later, a slice of pain rose from Reid's torso, and he howled, struggling against the hands that held him down.

"You're lucky I don't kill you, boy!"

"But you're willing to kill your nephew, the only family member you have left?" Reid shot back, wincing in pain. "Look at yourself! After your wife died, you let yourself go. You started believing that a classic story about a boy who could fly was your life. You wanted to live in that story because you and your wife had shared a love for that story, and with her gone, all you could do was bring her back to life with a children's story!"

Another slice of pain burned through Reid's stomach, and he screamed. This one seemed deeper than the last one. Deeper and more painful to him.

"I get it!" He said. "Your nephew was your FIRST victim! He put you away in a sanatorium, and was planning to get rid of all your stuff. Your clothes, your trinkets, your ship… But you escaped. You and everyone who listened to you boarded a ship, kidnapped your nephew and sailed out as far as you could go without leaving U.S waters. Then, you deluded yourself into thinking that your entire family had died in the accident that killed your wife and your nephew's brother. And Johnny became a ghost in the hold, someone you remembered, but you didn't believe he was real."

"Shut up!" 'Hook' roared, and another slice of pain ripped through Reid's stomach. But this time, the younger man didn't scream. He laughed.

Reid continued to speak, undeterred by the pain in his stomach. "And after you'd been on the water for a few weeks, you realized you were missing something, weren't you? As Captain Hook, scourge of the Island of Neverland, you needed Peter Pan, you enemy. So you sent a bunch of your men to the mainland to kidnap a young man to play Peter. He couldn't be too young; you would be reminded of your nephews. He couldn't be too old, either; Peter Pan never grows old, after all. Men in their early to late 20's worked well for you, as well as a few teenagers, am I right?"

This was the last straw. 'Hook' grabbed Reid with his right hand and thrust him hard into a group of 'pirates.' "This one's walking! Get the plank!" He snarled.

A grim cheer went up and a second later, Reid felt his hands being pulled behind his back, rope fastening them together. Another group of men brought out a wooden plank and set it over the edge of the ship.

And Reid felt a cold pit in his stomach, as if he'd swallowed ice cubes.

This was it. He was going to die.

He heard the sound of a wooden door opening and a struggle breaking out by the cabin.

"NO! Uncle James, don't do it! Please!"

Reid felt his bare feet slide along the deck toward the plank. Hands pushed him, kept him moving toward the plank. Voices laughed, jeered and catcalled. He thought of his mother; did she know what was happening to him? He thought of his team; he wondered how they would feel when his body washed up on the beach.

Hotch would blame himself. Of that, Reid had no doubts. He would say it was his fault that one of his agents was taken from under his nose while in the field.

"_Stop this!"_

Morgan would be angry. A rampant, undeterred force of nature hell-bent on finding who it was that had killed him. He would not rest until each man on this deck who had wanted Reid dead was dead themselves.

"_Uncle James! What's he done to you?"_

Prentiss would consider his death a failure to herself as an agent, and a friend. She would compartmentalize until the day she retired, but she would never be able to live with herself. She would feel as though she had failed him by not being there to save him.

"_Leave him alone! He's trying to make you see reason! Can't you see reason, Uncle James?"_

Rossi would go on. He would continue to be the rock of the BAU, the core that the unit, that the team, had been founded on. But when he was alone, Reid knew that he would sit back in his chair with a bottle of wine, and wonder. Wonder if Reid could have been saved. Wonder if Reid would have made a good agent.

"_No! Spencer! Don't let them win! Uncle James, let him go!"_

Garcia would be broken. She would blame him for the pain he'd caused. She'd blame herself for not being there. She would cry over his death for days, weeks, months, and even years. She had seen him die before, die and come back, and she would be convinced that he could be saved. But it wouldn't be possible.

He was snapped from his reverie by hands pushing him onto the plank. He stumbled and a hand roughly straightened him out.

Johnny's voice continued to yell.

"Stop it, Uncle James! You don't have to do this! Leave him alone!"

Reid looked out toward the black ocean beyond. Voices echoed in his mind.

"_We don't always beat the monsters to the babies, but we make the job worth it."_

"_Your mind… Such a treasure."_

"_It's called empathy. And it's a good thing."_

"_I stopped being surprised by Spencer's mind a long time ago."_

"_I think you need to read that letter again."_

"_Well done, Agent Reid."_

"_A mother knows. We're animals, Spencer. We feel things."_

"_You are stronger than him. He cannot break you."_

Gideon… Morgan… Prentiss… Hotch… JJ… Rossi… Garcia… His parents… The people who counted on him, who cared about him… The people who loved him.

Reid knew in that moment what he had to do.

"Hook!" He yelled, turning back around to face the man. "Hook! I challenge you!"

'Hook' looked at the young man. "A challenge of what, exactly, Peter?" the man sneered.

"I challenge you to a fight." Reid replied. "You and me, we'll fight with swords tomorrow, when the sun is at its peak. If I win, you have to let me and Johnny go free, and you and your crew must turn yourselves into the Orlando PD and the FBI."

"What if I win?" Hook asked. "Do you want to know?" Reid continued to glare at the man. "How's this? If I win, you can pick your fate."

"What fate?" the profiler asked.

"Option one: You walk the plank and your body washes up on the shore. Only this time, you are the last victim, and I'm never found again."

"What's option two?"

'Hook' looked around at the crew, all of whom were looking at the boy. "Option two, you become my personal cabin boy… and the crew's chew toy." The other 'pirates' started to snicker. Reid saw Johnny's face turn pale; he realized the implications of 'chew toy.'

Morgan had always said his 'Pretty Boy' features would get him in trouble…

"No! Spencer, no!"

But…

"Do we have an accord, boy?"

…It was a chance he would have to take.

"It's a deal!" Reid said. At his words, the hook slashed through the rope and Reid's hands fell to his side. As Spencer sealed the deal, the heavens opened and a torrent of rain streamed its way from the sky to land in the ocean and onto the ship itself, soaking the people gathered on the deck within seconds.

"Indeed." 'Hook' proclaimed. Reid thought something flashed in the man's eyes for a second before he lifted his gaze skyward. "Tomorrow shall be… interesting."

:::

_Life is a long lesson in humility. ~James M. Barrie_

::::

_A/N: And one more thing: Back in September my aunt had a baby girl… And she was baptized this past weekend…. Her parents, my aunt and uncle, asked me to be the Godmother, which was a real honor! They called me the day before and asked. I am still reeling, and I've been walking on air for the past few days. Again, it was a real honor, and I am so happy to be able to be a part of her life in that way!_

_Thanks to my reviewers: Noel Ardnek, zannabanana, SSAFunbar, 68luvcarter, SayidRocks, The-Vampire-Act and RIPCURL. aus_

_RIPCURL. aus: I agree; that reporter should have kept his mouth shut. My guess is that Morgan took him down a back alleyway and made it look like he was thrown out of a bar. I believe that Garcia's experiences with the team have molded her into the person she is today. She is stronger than most people think, the same way Reid is. And Reid with a sword should be in a few chapters; for sure sometime after the chapter I'm finishing now; I wrote down an epic (to me) quote that Reid says during this scene, and I hope to have it, and this entire story, written soon._

_So… Love? Hate? Kinda Meh? …Please leave a review with one of our friendly staff members in the blue button below._

_*~N_CBAU~* _


	8. The Life of Every Man

_**Okay, this is going to sound totally random, and rather rant-y, and you can skip it if you want to, but I'm very angry at Twitter right now. One of their trending topics over the past couple days bugged me, especially when it turned out to be false... Everyone's intitled to their own opinions on actors, writers, singers and other pop icons, and I understand that. Just don't say that someone is dead when they aren't. Especially if its an important and influential player in modern-day history. It scares a lot of people, and makes other people angry when it turns out to be a false alarm.**_

_**Okay, rant over.**_

_**I dunno if I'll update again before "Corazon" airs; I'm going home today for a dentist appointment tomorrow (My wisdom teeth are starting to come in, and I really **__**don't like how they feel. Fun times). But I will have most of this story written by the end of the month, and it'll probably be completly uploaded by mid-Febuary at the earliest.**_

_**I don't own Criminal Minds. But Reid is a bada** when he goes all "I'm making an inference" on Dr. Malcom. Go Reid! :D**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and Garcia were gathered in the small conference room that was home base for the case, looking at the pictures and video that Linda Holden had dropped off at the police station. She, along with her husband Connor, were sitting out in the bullpen, nursing a cup of coffee each, and looking careworn.

"What a way to spend your honeymoon," Prentiss whispered. "Three weeks in Miami, a romantic boat trip from Texas and back… And before it even begins you get swept up in a Federal investigation." She and JJ were flipping through the pictures Linda had taken, in awe of the craftsmanship and authenticity of the ship, but shuddering at the thought of what was happening to their friend on it. They paused to look out at them; he was rubbing soothing circles on her back while she tried to make herself as small as possible.

Rossi walked past them, a laptop in his hands, also looking out at the couple. "This is going to change their relationship forever." Rossi admitted. "My guess is that it'll be stronger… but who knows."

"Do you have that video, Dave?" Hotch asked. Rossi held up the computer before getting to work setting it up on the table.

Garcia had also set up her laptop, commandeering a corner of the table for the machine and some fluffy pens, toys and photos; Morgan felt a twinge of sickness when he spotted a picture of Reid, Prentiss, Garcia and himself, all bunched up in Garcia's office; the photo had been taken by Kevin Lynch's friend from the White Collar Unit, Niko Zissou while he had been running errands for Garcia before a recent case. Garcia and Reid had been sitting in the two swivel chairs, with Morgan and Prentiss behind their chairs. Garcia had grabbed Morgan's shirt and was kissing him on the cheek; he had a huge smile on his face. Prentiss was resting her chin on Reid's shoulder, both her hands on his favorite purple scarf. Reid had a small, shy smile on his face and was waving at the camera.

JJ excused herself from the room; she was not on the case, and had no business being there, despite the words of her former teammates. Prentiss shut the blinds as Garcia played the footage.

_The dark form of the ship was clearly visible in the moonlight; one could see the figures on the deck as they moved about the ship as the lens zoomed in. They seemed to be crowding around one or two figures in particular. Suddenly there was a faint stab of light as a second figure was led out onto the deck. Moments later, the sounds of screaming began. _"We should do something!" Linda's voice whispered over the speakers. "Whoever he is, he's in pain." _Of course, there was nothing to be done; Linda and Connor had no weapons, no protection, and no proof. The screaming continued… But it almost seemed like someone was… yelling… a challenge of some sort. The screaming stopped, then the sounds of a crowd of men roaring. The sounds of the boat motor starting were picked up. _"We'll tell the cops, the FBI and the Coast Guard," said Connor's voice. _The ship became smaller and smaller as the camera pulled away. _"Please, God," Linda's voice whispered. "Help him. Bring that poor agent home, and anyone suffering with him alive and well, whoever they are."

The video cut off a second later. Garcia rubbed her eyes, trying to keep tears from falling down her cheeks. No one spoke for a moment.

"I-I started running boating licenses," Garcia whispered, her voice shaking. "To see if there's anyone in the Orlando area who may own a 16th century-era wooden pirate ship. Also, I'm going to call the Coast Guard to see if they're aware of this."

"Garcia," Rossi gently urged. "I was also wondering if… maybe… you could enhance the audio in the video. Especially the background; I think someone was trying to say something on that pirate ship."

Garcia nodded and began typing hurriedly. Hotch and Rossi exchanged glances when a vocal program began running the audio through a filter in less than a minute, turning back to her when she suddenly stopped typing.

"I got something!"

There was rustling mixed with some garbled noises; the sounds of the waves and the wind mixed with the voices of the witnesses. Hotch opened his mouth to speak, but Garcia held up a finger to silence him.

"Wait for it…"

And suddenly there was a voice.

_"NO! Uncle James, don't do it! Please!"_

"That's not Reid's voice," Rossi noted grimly as the yelling continued.

"Shhh!" Garcia hissed, fingers poised over the keyboard as she listened.

"_Uncle James! What's he done to you?"_

Garcia had tears streaming down her cheeks. "What if they killed him?" she gasped, breaking her own rule of silence. "What if we're too late? I can't think of him… like that."

Morgan and Rossi both placed comforting hands on her shoulders, and Garcia grabbed Rossi's while resting her cheek on Morgan's. Hotch started pacing the width of the room behind the conference table they sat at.

"He's alive," Morgan whispered vehemently. "I'd know if he was gone."

"_-See reason, Uncle James?"_

JJ walked into the room at that moment, she gasped, a hand over her mouth.

"That's not-"

Hotch nodded grimly, still pacing.

"Do you think he's-"

Morgan shrugged. "That's what we're trying to figure out," he admitted.

"_-Et them win! Uncle James, let him go!"_

"What'd he say?" Morgan asked, confused.

"Garcia, look up the name of anyone named James within the Orlando area. He would have lost someone within the last ten years, a wife or child. Check boating licenses and boat ownerships; if he _does _have a historic 16th century sailing vessel, then he's going to have to prove that he owns it." Despite his resemblance to a caged lion, Hotch seemed determined to find his youngest team member in any way possible.

"As you wish," Garcia muttered, opening another window, a small, rather grim smile starting to appear on her lips despite her tear-stained cheeks and smudged makeup.

"Guys!" Morgan yelled suddenly.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked.

"Just listen," Rossi whispered, pointing to the computer. Even Garcia stopped typing.

"_Hook! I challenge you!"_

"That's Reid!" Morgan whispered, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. Garcia's smile brightned, tears running with renewed strength. Prentiss took a teary-eyed JJ into her arms, heaving a sigh of relief as she did so. Hotch stopped pacing, and Rossi suddenly looked about ten years younger.

"_A challenge of what, exactly, Peter?"_ A man sneered. Garcia flinched; she did not like how that voice sounded.

"_I challenge you to…. You and me… with swords tomorrow, when the sun… peak. If I win… let me and Johnny… your crew must turn yourselves… lando PD and the FBI." _

"Why is it doing that?" Morgan asked, confused.

Garcia clicked at her computer. "It was the wind picking up; there was that massive storm last night, remember? A parabola would have picked up more sound in those conditions."

"_What if I win? Do you want to know?"_ The voice of what was unmistakably their UnSub faintly grated through the speakers. _"How's this? If I win, you can pick your fate."_

"_What fate?"_ There was no mistaking the tense, but fearful tone in Reid's voice.

"_Option one: You walk the… body washes up… shore. Only this time, you are the last… I'm never found again."_

"_What's option two?"_

"_Option two… my personal cabin boy… and the crew's chew toy."_ The room was suddenly filled with the dark chuckles of other men, all who seemed to know what 'chew toy' meant.

Garcia paled, both her hands reaching up to rub her eyes. Morgan, a look of total rage on his face, slammed his fist against the conference room wall, cursing a few choice words under his breath. The other's held their breath, waiting for Reid's answer…

Suddenly, the sounds of the witnesses' boat motor revved up, causing them to miss a mass of dialogue, except for one word, spoken in Reid's familiar voice: _"…deal!"_

Garcia jumped from her computer, running from the conference room with fresh tears running from her face onto her blouse, Prentiss and JJ following behind her. Morgan stormed from the room, looking livid; Hotch heard him mutter something about going for a walk. Rossi exited the program, going to close the computer when he saw a name and a picture.

"Hey Hotch," he said. "Come look at this."

Hotch leaned over the computer screen, eyeing the file up and down.

"James Riley, age 53 of Orlando, born in 1958 in Jacksonville…" He read tersely. "He married Angela Watkins in 1975. They had no children, but Riley had a brother who was killed in a motor accident in 1995… Daniel and Jonathan "Johnny" Riley, Angela and James adopted them… Oh, wait… Angela and Daniel died in 2004… Drunk driver crashed into them just outside of Orlando… Rossi, look at the credit card statements after the funeral."

Now it was Rossi's turn to be confused. "16th century period clothing, swords, daggers, knives, a powdered wig, wood, nails, iron bars, white canvas, thick, heavy hemp rope…. The guy built a frigging pirate ship!"

"He was institutionalized from November 1st, 2009 to September 25th, 2010," Hotch continued, "when he and a bunch of patient being considered for the outpatient program inexplicably escaped. It was at this time that his only surviving nephew, Jon, disappeared, two days later. Three weeks go by, and our first victim disappears on a Monday, the 18th of October, and washes up on shore that Friday evening. The same thing continues for the next three Mondays until…

"Monday, November 15," Rossi grimly supplied, looking toward the evidence board and the pictures of each of the four victims that had brought them here, ending with Reid. "If this sicko sticks to pattern, today's the day he'll get rid of Reid and prepare for another victim."

"And that's not the worst part," Hotch muttered, scrolling down further.

"What?"

"He has a license to a staged re-enactment on that boat; they're living as sailors on the high seas, but-"

"But in reality they're kidnapping young men and killing them, thinking they're fictional characters in a classic children's novel," Prentiss said as she walked into the room. She had her phone in one hand and a sheaf of paper in the other. "I just got the call from the Coast Guard, and they faxed over all the important documents. Riley's ship's current location is right here." She pointed it out as she spoke. "If we hurry we can get there shortly after noon."

"Noon?" Hotch asked.

"When the sun is highest in the sky; Reid probably said 'at its peak.' Peak is another word for highest, and the time that the sun is highest in the sky is noon."

"I'll call the Coast Guard, and have them meet us at the docks in 20." Hotch growled, fishing out his cell phone. "Dave, you get the rest of the team, tell them we're going to track down this sicko and get Reid back."

::::

_The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.  
~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: And, just curious... Whose all looking forward to "Corazon" on Wednesday? I saw the promo on YouTube and thought it was AWESOME! It's safe to say that I nearly had a heart attack; this one appears to be a kickstart into the second half of the season. I'm also gonna post the link on my profile in case you wanna see it._

_Speaking of my profile, I have a poll up regarding my Spencer/OC series: I want an UnSub from a past case in the series to come back for another round, but I dunno which one to choose (I'm probably gonna have Gideon come back, too). I wanted Rothchild, the creepy guy from 'Masterpiece,' but I kinda wanna see what else is out there... :D_

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers Noel Ardnek, SayidRocks, lolyncut, 68luvcarter, zannabanana, Integer, SSAFunbar, HannahlovinCM, MKatM and Laurella, as well as everyone who has favorited and alerted._

_Integer: Love the pun, and I'm glad you liked the last chapter. The quotes were the best part, I thought. I hope this chapter made you happy, and willing to come back for more!_  
_Laurella: Thanks for taking a moment to read and review! I'm very glad you liked it, and I hope you come back for the rest of it! :D  
MKatM: I'm glad you liked it! I've had a blast writing... Please come back for more!_

_Next few chapters: Sword fights (It's coming slower than anticipated; thank goodness for YouTube), rescue and recovery. Love ya'll! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	9. An Awfully Big Adventure

**_88 Reviews! I have to say, WOW! I think it's safe to assume that I got more reviews last chapter than I did for any other chapter in this story! Thanks, everyone! Thank you, thank you, thank you..._**

**_And yes, the dentist confirmed that my wisdom teeth are coming in, so hopefully I'll be going in sometime this week to do battle avec les dents, or with the teeth. Also, I'm done with my Citizen Responder Class (Or CPR Class); we got done earlier than expected, but that means more recovery time from the anesthesia... I might just relax during those days and watch CM reruns or something... :D_**

**_And, in case you're wondering, the events of last chapter took place early in the morning (Like around 7-9 AM), which means that all this (the events of the next two chapters) is happening around noon. Just a little timeline for those of you keeping track._**

**_Finally, I don't own Criminal Minds; I just have a tee shirt and Season 5 on DVD. Also, I'm a college student with only about $25 to her name, and part of that is in change, so please don't sue me._**

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

Hotchner and the rest of the team, as well as members of the Orlando PD, arrived by chopper from the Orlando Police Station on a Coast Guard cutter rush just off the coast of Miami. Wordlessly, Hotch handed the captain, Marcus Wellsey, pictures of James Riley, Jon Riley, and Reid.

"I trust you've been briefed on the situation?" Hotch asked.

Wellsey, a solidly-built older man with a balding hairline and a caterpillar-like mustache, nodded. "Although I've never spoken to James, I've seen his license. I know exactly where they are, too; I passed by their ship Monday night, and all seemed quiet. Usually I'd check if there was some sort of disturbance, but everything seemed peaceful."

"He had a Federal Agent in his hold!" Morgan growled. "And possibly a civilian. He's delusional and is never going to stop killing, no matter what he tells you or what you promise him."

"Well, now that I know that, I can understand why he never spoke to me in person." Wellsey turned to two men over by the helicopters "I want you to take these agents to J. Riley's location. Time is of the importance. Take the choppers and the speedboats; we'll follow along behind you. This is the FBI's jurisdiction, so Agents Hotchner and Rossi are in charge. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir." Immedately, voices started shouting orders and men and women streamed from everywhere to begin loading the speedboats and check the helicopters on deck. Wellsey escorted them to the boat deck and helicopter pad.

"Dave, you and Prentiss take a speedboat in," Hotch ordered. "Morgan, you're with me in the chopper."

"Thank you," Rossi said to Wellsey.

"You can thank me when your Agent's found." Wellsey replied.

::::

Reid stepped out into the sunshine, blinking as he did so. As soon as he and Johnny had been pulled from their prison, their hands had been bound before they'd been led up to the deck. Neither of them struggled; they would need their strength for the plan they had concocted. Especially Reid; the bandages Johnny had applied to his torso would stop the bleeding, but Reid was willing to assume that once they got wet, it would only be a matter of time before the cuts got infected, or worse.

Win or lose, Reid knew that Hook would never keep his deal; the profile proved and cemented that fact over and over again. So, as of last night, the two of them had decided to run. Both of them would jump from the ship into the ocean and swim, hopefully reaching another boat or land before Hook caught up to them.

Hook stood at the center of the deck a sword already in hand. He was watching the two younger men as they were led onto the deck of the ship. Johnny and Spencer stared back, the latter of the two not looking away from the man before them. His face was unreadable, and he wore the same clothing that he'd worn the first time Reid had met him.

Reid didn't say anything as someone released him from his bindings and pushed him toward Hook; there really wasn't anything to say. Someone else roughly grabbed his hand and forced the hilt of a sword into its grasp. He kept staring straight ahead, facing his delusional captor with an air of defiance, the borrowed sword tightly clenched.

Hook smiled, the sword glinting in the sun. "Are you ready, Boy?" he asked.

Reid raised the sword in front of his face, gazing at its beauty and strength. It was a simple rapier with a thin blade and an undecorated hilt. The blade was untarnished and bright. Relucantly, he tore his eyes away from the weapon to face his enemy. He was ready. Win, or lose, live, or die, he was ready.

Reid looked at Johnny, who nodded. On either side of the younger man were two hardened criminals, both of them watching Reid, but paying no attention to the man between them. Reid saw Johnny shift between the two men and begin rubbing his bound wrists on the 'pirate's' unsheathed dagger, hanging from the man's belt.

::::

"There it is!" the pilot called, pointing outside the helicopter.

Morgan followed the man's finger to the wooden vessel sitting anchored in the water. There was a gathering of men on the wooden deck, surrounding two men with swords. Morgan recognized one of them and clenched his hands into fists.

"Can't we go closer?" he growled.

"That's a negative, Agent Morgan." The pilot replied. "Not unless Agent Hotchner in the other chopper says otherwise.

Morgan fought the urge to leap from the helicopter, turning instead to watch as the UnSub they had been chasing lunge toward his best friend.

::::

Hook started the fight moving forward as if to stab the younger man. Spencer deflected, pushing the invading blade off to the side. As soon as he had done that, the young profiler moved forward, making slashing motions toward his captor.

Hook stepped backwards, defending himself from Reid's blows. Reid looked up in time to see the other man's blade come from above, his own sword making contact just inches from his shoulder.

Neither of them moved for a moment.

Then, Hook moved his blade downward. You're good," he admitted. Reid stared at him, thoughts racing.

"But I will still beat you!"

Reid moved to defend himself again, parrying the blow just before it could reach his neck. Now it was his turn to move backwards as Hook tried to get through an opening.

::::

"Shouldn't we go in?" Emily asked as their speedboat quietly crept the last few feet of distance between itself and the wooden vessel in front of them.

Beside her, Rossi shook his head, despite the fact that it went against every fiber of his being; one of his agents was on that ship, fighting for his life at that very moment. He didn't even have to listen for the sounds of steel meeting steel as the two of them fought; the sun was blazing high in the heart of the sky.

"If James Riley sticks to the profile, he is under the delusion that Reid is Peter Pan. If we storm the deck now, guns blazing and everything, Reid may become distracted enough for James to…" He trailed off, not wanting to think of what would happen if that became a reality.

"But James never _had _someone storm his ship before!" Emily reasoned.

"True," Rossi admitted. "But you're forgetting the crocodile that ate Hook's hand."

"But… Peter kicked Hook into the crocodile's mouth at the end. I don't know what you're thinking, Rossi, but I don't see any ticking crocodiles here."

"Crocodiles, no." Rossi admitted. "But if we consider the profile again, we'll remember that Riley thinks Reid is Peter Pan. Which means Reid will provide his own ticking. Wasn't that how Peter achieved access to the ship in the first place?"

::::

_To die will be an awfully big adventure. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: Nobody's gonna die! Honest! Don't kill me... And don't send Bart after me, either! Please! Even though Bart would be a fun person to talk to..._

_First... Who saw 'Corazon?' Did ya like it? I thought it was... Not gonna lie... AWESOME! Especially that performance by Matthew; I was BLOWN AWAY! ...I mean, he's always been an amazingly wicked brilliant actor, but he was AMAZINGLY WICKED BRILLIANT in that episode! :D_

_And a big THANK YOU! to my reviewers: Noel Ardnek, MKatM, danicalif80, SSAFunbar, LionInAComa, PinkHimeLacus, lolyncut, RIPCURL. aus, 68luvcarter, SayidRocks, zannabanana, ZuZu-Chan, The-Vampire-Act, cookiemonster328, Cause. A. Scene and Integer_

_MKatM: I'm glad to see you came back (And I hope you enjoyed Corazon; I know I did!) _  
_RIPCURL. aus: Don't worry, they'll be there, and Reid... He's got some surprises up his sleeves. After all, he is a magician! And a genius!_  
_Integer: I'm glad you liked the description of the picture, and you are correct, the pen is mightier than the sword, as you will see by the end of this fic._

_So... Love? Hate? Want more? ... There should be a little blue button for you to click right... about... HERE!_

_Please review!_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	10. By the Blade

**_Hello all! Glad to see you're still here!_**

**_My surgery is set for Friday morning; I'm assuming that they're gonna give me the good stuff, the stuff that knocks you out for a good couple of hours and makes you wake up all doozy and groogy... Also, I'm watching House while writing this AN, so I'm wondering what would happen if House happened to do my surgery... :D_**

**_I own nothing pertaining to Criminal Minds, but I'm eagerly looking forward to "The Thirteenth Step!" Really, all I have is a t-shirt and the 5th season on DVD._**

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

"You'll never defeat me!" The man cried.

Reid deflected another one, biting his lip as a slight twinge of pain from a slash of the hook burned its way across his shoulder. "True, the odds are not in my favor, experience-wise," he admitted. "But I'm younger, faster." He ducked as the blade held by the older man swiped at his head, wincing as the wounds from last night chafed against the bandages. "Smarter, admittedly."

"Who do you think you are, Peter?"

"If I said Captain Jack Sparrow, I'd be lying." Reid smirked as he said this, despite the pain he was in; Garcia had forced him to watch the entire _Pirates of the Caribbean _trilogy after he'd been shot in the leg. But, he was secretly glad for the experience; he didn't think he'd have been able to hold his own here without those movies.

Hook roared, thrusting forward. Reid dodged, pivoting. But Reid forgot about the hook, until it slashed into his back. He screamed, falling backwards as Hook leapt thward him, as if to finish him off. But Reid raised the blade in front of him, to defend himself. Once again, their blades met, the wielders' faces only inches away from each other.

::::

Johnny watched the fight, leaning against the one of his two guards that was watching the fight. To anyone watching, it would appear that Johnny was leaning against his guard due to heat exhaustion, or dehydration. But if anyone had dared to look closer, they would see that the ropes around Johnny's wrists were frayed….

Johnny smiled, shifting his body to hide his now unbound hands from both his guards. Not that they were paying attention; they were too focused on the promise of a new form of entertainment if Spencer lost. But Johnny knew that wasn't going to happen; all Spencer had to do was say the word and they would both be off that deck, swimming toward safety.

He was brought back to their present reality as Spencer landed on the deck, raising his sword as Uncle James leaped to attack him. Johnny cast Reid a sideways glance that he caught from the corner of his eye.

At least, he hoped they both would.

::::

Reid glared up at James, heart pounding, back and chest throbbing in pain; he was convinced that some of the cuts had started bleeding again. He squirmed under the gaze of Hook's eyes.

"Looks like I finally beat you, Peter!" the man crowed; Reid watched as he dropped his sword and leaned over him, placing the hook at Spencer's jugular vein.

Reid wouldn't let this man scare him. He may have lost the fight, there was still a chance, though a rather small one, but a chance nonetheless, that he would still win.

"Do you have anything to say?" Hook growled. The cool metal of the hook caressed Spencer's neck, moving up his cheek to tuck a strand of chestnut brown hair behind his ear before moving down his neck to his chest, tracing the edge of his hook down one of the fresh cuts on his latest victim's torso.

"Well, Boy." The voice was demanding. "What say you?"

Reid caught Johnny's glance from the corner of his eye; there was a small smile on the younger man's face. And in that moment, Spencer knew what he had to say.

"It's Hook or me this time," Reid muttered softly, keeping his eyes on Johnny as he spoke. "It's Hook or me this time," he whispered, his voice a little stronger as he quoted the famous phrase again.

"What?" The pirate captain was confused.

Reid pushed himself up as best he could, considering the pain in his chest and the man on his waist. "I said," Reid voiced as loud as he could. "It's Hook or me this time!"

As he spoke, Johnny moved his hands. One hand took the dagger that had cut the ropes from the guard who owned it, and used the weapon to stab at the owner. The other hand curled into a fist and slammed into the side of the other guard's head before he turned and leaped from the deck of the ship and into the water.

::::

Hotch watched the action on deck, his face betraying no emotion, but his heart beating in fear for his sub-ordinate as he fought the man before him; he nearly lost his composure when Reid fell and Riley made to attack him, but held it in when Reid parried that last move. It was only when Johnny jumped from the deck into the water that Hotch sprang into action.

"All units! Go, go, go!" He cried into his mike.

The helicopters descended….

::::

Prentiss jumped into the water to intercept Johnny as he rose from beneath the surface. Together, the two of them swam toward the boat she had just left, where Rossi held out a blanket for the young man as he was pulled aboard by Coast Guard officials.

"What about Spencer?" he gasped, staring at Rossi and Prentiss.

Rossi and Prentiss exchanged looks. "We'll get him," Rossi replied. "Right now, you have to relax."

Prentiss laid a soothing hand on his shoulder. "It's over; you're safe, Jon. These Coast Guard officials will take good care of you."

::::

Reid pushed Hook off him at the sound of approaching helicopters and the voices of others… people who weren't pirates… filled his ears.

At the same time, Hook stood, raising his sword; Reid knew that the man was planning on finishing him off before his team could stop him. Words came unbidden to Spencer's mind:

"_One, two! One, two! And through and through/ The vorpal blade went snicker-snack."_

Reid smiled. "Yes," he stated. "There is something I want to say!" As he spoke, footsteps echoed across the deck.

"James Riley, FBI." Hotch intoned.

"You're under arrest for kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, fraud with intent to murder, murder, attempted murder…."

But 'Hook' wasn't listening; his eyes were on Reid's as he raised his sword high into the air…

Morgan shot the man in the stomach and he fell, falling toward the sword that Reid still held in an upright position. Suddenly, Reid took the blade that he still hadn't released, the one that had been forced into his hands earlier that afternoon and thrust it away from Hook's body. Hook gasped, dropping the sword as he landed on the deck.

Nobody moved for a second. Then, Reid slowly got to his feet, leaning on the sword now in his possession as he rose before taking it in his hand and moving the blade parallel to the ground.

"And for the last time," Reid growled. "My name is _not _Peter. It's _Spencer._"

A moment later, Reid collapsed into Morgan's arms, falling unconscious as the adrenaline stopped, and the tribulations of the last week caught up with him.

::::

_Temper is a weapon that we hold by the blade. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: YAY! Reid's been saved! :D_

_And remember what I said last chapter... It still stands... No one's taking a trip to the Heavenly King's Cross Station any time soon! I can promise you that!_

_And if anyone can guess where the poem fragment that raced through Reid's mind came from, you'll get virtual chocolate! ;)_

_Thanks to my reviewers: danicalif80, zannabanana, Noel Ardnek, ZuZu-Chan, The-Vampire-Act, SSAFunbar, 68luvcarter, GoddessSumizofVenus, SayidRocks, shotforthesky and Integer! And thanks for everyone who favorited and alerted._

_shotforthesky: I'm glad you love it so much! I hope you come back for more! :D_  
_Integer: I hope this cleared up your cliffhanger blues; I should have another chapter up after the weekend is over._

_And a HUGE thank you to everyone who took a look at my other story, Guardian Angels Are Protecting Me! You know who you are! I'll post another chapter there ASAP! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	11. Sunshine

**_We're down to the last couple chapters! (I can't believe it, either... It's like 'where did the story go?') As far as chapters go there's this one, the next one, maybe another one (Depending on if I combine the contents of the next two chapters) and/ or an epilogue. So about two to four chapters! Plus I have two crossovers in the works, an AU with two chapters posted, a few other ideas that I'm ruminating on... And classes started this week, so I'll be trying to work around those._**

**_And the surgeon put me on the good stuff (Yay Vicodin!) I love how House's drug of choice numbs the pain, but like Reid, I don't like what it does to my mind, since it's a narcotic and all..._**

**_Once again, I own nothing! CM doesn't belong to me! And I don't own the poem "The Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carrol (Mentioned in the previous chapter; thanks to MKatM, Integer, SaydRocks, Prieva, RavenParadox and zannabanana for guessing correctly!) either! :D_**

...

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

The Coast Guard and the BAU worked quickly to secure the UnSubs, Reid and Johnny. The men and women of Wellsey's unit were happy to take the majority of the killers into their custody and transport them back to the mainland; however, Morgan was loathe to part with Reid's unconscious form, even using his one free hand to pick up and stow the sword that had, until recently, been in Reid's hand.

It was only when they reached Orlando via Medi-Evac from Miami, and the doctors forced Morgan to let go did he finally release his hold on his younger friend, coworker… and almost-brother.

Twenty minutes and two cups of coffee later, Rossi and JJ had agreed to stay at the hospital, despite Morgan's intentions of doing the exact same thing. But Prentiss and Hotch had to close the case and fill out the proper paperwork before they left, and Garcia had to deal with the larger swarm of reporters outside the police station, leaving Morgan the task of interrogating their UnSub, James "Hook" Riley.

Another two hours found Morgan as he was glaring down James Riley while stuffing case file photos into their respective folders, and desperately hoping that the man would cut his neck on his own hook, which would spare the courts, and the BAU, a mess of time and paperwork.

"How is Peter doing?" The delusional man asked, his eyes glinting with malice.

"_Spencer,_" Morgan emphasized. "_Spencer _will live, no thanks to you." And with that, he stormed toward the door, fuming. But he wasn't alone in that regard.

Morgan stepped from the interrogation room to find Garcia pacing outside, clenching and unclenching her fists.

"Baby Girl, what's wrong?" he asked, immediate concern in his voice.

"What's wrong?" Garcia screeched. "What's _wrong? _I'll tell you what's _wrong, _Derek! That… that sicko took my baby boy, my Junior G-Man, and he… and he…"

"Maybe you should sit down, Garcia," Morgan urged gently, guiding Garcia toward a chair at the edge of the bullpen.

"I don't want to sit down!" Garcia exclaimed. "I wanna go into that room right now! Just give me five minutes with him, Derek; I'm gonna march up to him, get all up in his face and say, "Hello. My name is Penelope Garcia. You almost killed my friend Spencer. Prepare to die.' And then I'll…"

Morgan took that moment to gently place her into the chair he had been guiding her toward and took both her hands within his. "Baby Girl," he began.

"No, Derek," she hissed. "Do not 'Baby Girl' me. I do not want to be 'Baby Girl-ed' right now. One of my babies is hurt! He's hurt, and he's in pain. He's been hurt and in pain for four days, and I couldn't help him! I wanted to help him, but I couldn't! I want to be there for him! I _have _to be there for him!"

"Garcia…"

She continued as if Morgan hadn't even spoken. "I couldn't be there for him then, so I want to be there for him now! I _should _be there for him now! He wasn't supposed to get hurt!"

"Garcia, Baby Girl," he continued. "He's going to be fine. We got him. He's safe in the hospital, and so is Johnny. JJ and Rossi are waiting to see how they're doing, and they promised to call and let us know when it's alright to see them. Meanwhile, we've got the guy who did this to him, and the guy's gonna go away for a very long time." While he spoke, Morgan jabbed his thumb toward the interrogation room that housed James Riley. "He'll be fine, you hear me?" Morgan concluded. "Reid will be just fine, I promise you that."

Garcia didn't say anything; instead she flung herself into Morgan's arms, sobbing. In response, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, rubbing her back and rocking her gently. They stayed like that for a long time; Morgan knew they were getting stares from members of the Orlando PD, but he ignored them. _Let them, _he thought, _I just want Garcia to know that everything's gonna be alright, and that Riley won't do anything to Reid, Johnny or anyone else as long as he lives. _

As Garcia's heaving sobs became gentle whimpers, Morgan's phone vibrated in his pocket. She jumped away then, clearing up her tears as Morgan checked the caller ID before answering. "How is he, Rossi?"

"_It's superficial, but I'm glad we caught the bastard,"_ Rossi admitted gruffly. _"There were various cuts and bruises on his chest, torso, back and neck, ligature marks on his wrists and ankles… a cracked skull, probably from being thrown on the ground so many times, as well as the initial knockout in the parking lot… Reid's knee may also need to be looked at when we get back to Virginia; the doctors said it was fine, but I want to be safe…"_

"What about Johnny?"

"_Some of the same stuff, along with some cracked ribs. They were both dehydrated and malnourished, Johnny more so than Reid. Otherwise, they can both go home within the next day or so."_

"Is Reid awake?"

"_Not yet, but I'm willing to bet that he will be, sooner rather than later. I had JJ call Prentiss to let them know, too."_

"And?"

"_And I may have suggested to her to tell Hotch to lay off on the paperwork for one night; I'm thinking that Reid would want to see all of us when he wakes up."_

Morgan looked up to see Hotch walking toward him, along with two cops, who let themselves into the interrogation room; a moment later, Riley swaggered out and toward a holding cell, a cop on either arm.

"Tell Dave we're leaving now," he said. "Garcia, are you alright?"

She nodded, sniffling. "I am now, Sir," she whispered as Morgan repeated Hotch's words into the phone, thanked Rossi and hung up before the four of them headed out the door.

Morgan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Garcia?" he asked.

She looked up at him. Tears still glittered in her eyes. "Yeah, Derek?"

"Should we get our boy chocolate, flowers or a teddy bear?"

"…How about all three?"

Even Hotch and Emily smiled.

::::

_Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: It was just a matter of how to end this chapter; sorry if it's not the best. Part narcotics, part school stress... Part the fact that part of my lower jaw aches like mad... **moans** Anyway..._

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers: SSAFunbar, pottyandweezlbe89, zannabanana, RavenParadox, Noel Ardnek, Prieva, 68luvcarter, GoddessSumizofVenus, SayidRocks, Integer, HannahlovinCM, The-Vampire-Act and MKatM, as well as everyone who has alerted and favorited this and anymore of my stories._

_Integer: Thanks! And I love your choice of words; Morgan and the others did come galumphing to the rescue; an appropriate word choice for a beamish group after taking down a manxome enemy!_  
_MKatM: You are correct! Thanks for knowing! :D_

_And for shotforthesky... **imitating the 10th Doctor** Aw, Clicky Pens! I LOVE clicky pens! *Click-click, Click-click, Click-click, Click-click** hahaha..._

_Looking forward to hearing from you again! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	12. Fairies

**_Sorry it's so late; second semester is now in full swing, and I'm just being stretched everywhere! Mostly because I'm taking voice lessons as well as violin lessons this semester, and both professors have asked me to order a book that isn't in stock at the bookstore on campus. In other news, I got the majority of this chapter written when my local area was BOMBARDED by about 15 + inches of snow; it was an official snow day on Monday, with no classes!_**

**_Again, I own nothing pertaining to Criminal Minds... All recognizable dialogue is from various episodes over the past six seasons._**

...

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

The rays of the setting sun flashed into the small hospital room, illuminating the sleeping form of Spencer Reid. His hair was washed, his injuries were bandaged and healing, and the clothes that he had been wearing when he was kidnapped had been replaced with a hospital gown, a scrub shirt and scrub pants. However, he still kept his eyes closed to the outside world.

And as he slept, he dreamed.

::::

_The Floridian sun beat down on the parking lot, heating up the tarmac and anyone caught walking in the reflection. _

_Including Spencer Reid, who was shading his eyes while he glanced up at the sky._

_He had just finished interviewing the family of the last victim, who had been found just that morning, just two days after the BAU had arrived in Florida. At least it showed that the UnSub wasn't too concerned with the arrival of the team. Reid hoped that it would change, that the UnSub would make a mistake. Just one little mistake so they could go home…._

_His phone rang, the cheery tune that came with the phone when it was issued to him. Reid pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the caller ID. It was Hotch._

"_Hey, Hotch," Reid began._

"_Reid," Hotch greeted. "How did things go with the family?"_

_Reid sighed, looking around for the black SUV, the one he wasn't to keen on driving back to the station with right now. "Not good, actually. When I told them it was his body, the mother started crying and the father locked himself in the bathroom. He didn't come out until the brother and his wife came back, so I told them, and then took their statements." _

"_Did they say anything?"_

"_No," Reid stopped walking to stare around the parking lot. Something was wrong, he could feel it. But he couldn't put his finger on what exactly was wrong. "Have you given the profile yet?"_

"_Rossi was giving it with Prentiss and Morgan; I sent them on ahead with Orlando PD."_

"_Alright," Reid said. "I'm going to head back to the station; I'll see you in 20 minutes."_

"_Take care, Reid," Hotch said suddenly._

"_I will," he replied. "You, too."_

_Reid hung up and put his phone away, his fingers already digging around in his pockets. His mind was on the profile he knew they had all worked together. But why different victims in different social circles? And in this case, different locations? Until now, all the victims had been from the Orlando area; this last victim had been from Montana, the best man at his brother's wedding. So what had made the UnSub go for him?_

_Reid was so lost in thought that he almost missed the swooshing noise that was made by a baseball bat as it was preparing to swing. He made to look back toward his attacker, but before his body could pull through, the wooden bat smashed heavily against his skull and he went down, his vision darkening…._

::::

The doors of the hospital opened as Hotch, Garcia, Morgan and Prentiss entered the reception area, walking toward the waiting room where Rossi and JJ stood.

"How is he?" Garcia asked as she wrapped her arms around JJ's body. "How's my baby boy?"

"Spence's fine," JJ answered, patting her friend gently on the back. "He just has a few bumps and bruises. As soon as he wakes up and the doctors get some fluids into him, he'll be able to go home."

Rossi turned to the other agents. "The doctors and nurses just cleared us to go visit. He's alright, they're just waiting for him to wake up."

Hotch nodded. "Let's go," he uttered. Rossi nodded, taking his friend's arm and leading him down the hall to a room with the door slightly opened.

They entered to see Reid asleep on the bed, looking peaceful, despite the events of the past few days. A quick glance around the room revealed that it looked more like an upscale hotel room than a hospital room. The room was painted a yellow-tan color, and the lighting was dimmed; a dial on the wall beside the door seemed to control the brightness of the lights. There was a bookshelf that carried a few magazines and paperback books, as well as a few DVDs,' and on the wall was a flat screen TV. The window had a small stone ledge about four inches across, and beneath the ledge was a small maroon couch with matching pillows. The floors were hardwood, and the bathroom was tile. The bed and its accessories, however, destroyed the hotel-like feel of the room; a twin bed with all-white sheets and blankets surrounded by plastic railings, with a remote for the bed and a heart-rate monitor, pulse ox, and IV.

Nobody moved for a moment.

Then, Garcia crept into the room, making as little noise as she could with high heels on. She set a vase of flowers on the window sill of the hospital room, and calmly sat on the couch, laying her hand on the sleeping boy's shoulder.

After a second, Morgan followed, moving to sit beside Garcia on the couch. JJ and Prentiss moved into the room next. JJ moved to sit between Morgan and Garcia, grabbing a chair that sat in the corner for Prentiss, who sat on the other side of the bed, taking Reid's hand in hers.

Finally, Hotch and Rossi moved in. Rossi took the last two remaining chairs in the room, setting one at the foot of the bed next to Prentiss. Hotch took the second, moving to sit next to Dave.

And they sat there, waiting.

::::

…_.He awoke, his first thought being that it was an accident. But when he realized that darkness was all he could see, he began to think it was some cruel trick. He groaned; if he freaked out in any way, Morgan would never let him hear the end of it. Besides, he thought they'd known better, but he should at least humor them… as long as they turned the lights on._

"_Very funny, guys; can we turn the lights on now?" Reid made to call out… except the words seemed to be caught in his throat. That was when he realized that his arms were twisted behind his back. He made to move them, but they couldn't move; Reid felt the chafing of thick strands of rope rubbing at his wrists. The same held true for his ankles._

"_Guys," Reid tried to call again, but like before, the words didn't even make it from his mouth. That was when he ran his tongue through his mouth and tasted the cloth between his teeth. Immediately, his heart started to beat faster within his chest, and his stomach plummeted to his feet. He twisted against the bindings, growing as he fought. But the growls turned to whimpers as he realized that it would take more than some shuffling and magician's tricks to loosen those knots. _

_Reid fought back the helpless tears that burned salty against his eyes like the smell of the ocean surrounding him. The team would find him; they had before, long ago in Georgia. They'd found victims in worse situations… Hotch, Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss would burst through that door soon, and everything would be fine…._

::::

Reid's hand twitched, and a soft whimper rose from his lips as he slept; JJ gripped one of his hands, rubbing soft circles into the palm. Emily grabbed his other hand with both her own, hoping to keep him grounded so he wouldn't fly away in whatever nightmare he was caught up in. Garcia pulled her chair closer, moving her hand toward his face to stroke away a few strands of errant hair. But when the hair was gone, she didn't stop; instead, she ran her fingers across his forehead and through his hair. Morgan stood protectively at the foot of the bed, watching the sleeping form of his friend as he slept. Hotch had begun pacing again, like he had at the station, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and Rossi simply sat there, his hand gripping the railing of the bed, and his eyes watching the entire team as they stood together in their youngest member's hour of need.

::::

Memories flooded Reid's unconscious mind… There were so many of them….

_He was four, playing chess in the park…_

…_He was eight, and running from the bullies at the bus stop, his backpack banging againt his back like a second heartbeat…_

…_He father was leaving again_

"_I'm out of ideas, Diana."_

"_Well you could take Spencer with you…"_

_And then his own voice: __"I'm not weak."_

"_I know, baby…"_

…_He was in the library, studying._

"_Hey, Spencer!" _

_He looked up to see Alexia Lisbon sliding into the seat across from him in the library's study lounge._

"_Listen,"__ she began. __"Harper wants to talk to you about something. I don't know what, but she seemed really excited. She's behind the field house, come on…"_

"…_Are you Spencer Reid?"_

_He turned to find the face of an older man staring at him intently._

"_I'm Jason Gideon with the FBI; I wanted to ask you something."_

_Reid paused. __"What about?"_

"_I was looking at the paper you wrote; I think we could use someone like you at the BAU…"_

After that, everything was a blur.

"…_Extreme aggressor… 'Enter Sandman'…"_

"…_I'm a profiler…"_

"…_Can you forgive yourself, Mr. Garner?"_

"…_Confess!_

"_I haven't done anything!"_

_SLAP!_

"… _You're pitiful, just like my son..."_

"…_I remember it like it was only yesterday…"_

"…_How did the blood get on the clothes?"_

_His father staring at him in confusion._

"_You don't want to go down this road…"_

_He held his phone to his ear, heart pounding. Was it harder to breathe, like the oxygen in the room had been sucked out, or was that just the Anthrax He paid it no mind; he had something to take care of._

"_Hi, mom, this is Spencer. I just... I really want you to know that I love you... and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son…"_

And then, it want dark. Unending, suffocating darkness. He was drowning in it.

He was lost in it, with nowhere to go, no place to hide…

Was he going to die here?

And then… When Reid had given up all hope… There was a light…

There was only one thing it could be…

"Tinkerbell?" he asked.

The light sparkled, twinkled; Reid swore he could hear chiming…

She seemed to be travelling upward, toward another light, a light so bright that he was blinking with the intensity….

And then, a voice echoed through the darkness for a moment before becoming clearer with every passing second….

"Reid?" It asked. "Reid?"

Another voice quipped up. "He's waking up! Get the doctor!"

And Spencer opened his eyes.

::::

_Do you believe in fairies? Say quick that you believe. If you believe, clap your hands! ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N... First off, three more chapters to go!_

_Second... Who is looking forward to Coda tomorrow? The fact that it's Reid-Centric is awesome, but the fact that one of the characters is a little boy with ASD just won me over; I have friends and family who have been diagnosed with autism, and I have a mild form of Asperger's, so this episode will be really close to my hear for a while..._

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers: SSAFunbar, Noel Ardnek, GoddessSumezofVenus, pottyandweezlbe89, 68luvcarter, SayidRocks, The-Vampire-Act, Laurella, zannabanana, darlene10104, and Integer!_

_Laurella: Thank you very much! I'm glad you caught the Princess Bride reference, and I hope you stick around!_  
_Integer: I actually freaked out when I realized Mandy was Inigo Montoya! It was awesome to know that! :D_

_Please leave a review for me! ;)_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	13. Children

**_Making this as short and sweet as possible; I need to sleep now! Consider this a birthday prezzy for Matthew's 31st! :D_**

**_I don't own Criminal Minds!_**

_…._

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

The next fifteen minutes after he awoke, Reid's bedside was overwhelmed by doctors and nurses, poking, prodding and asking questions. But Reid wasn't paying attention; his eyes were drooping and his body was only semi-alert, yet he still answered the questions to the best of his ability. But eventually, he closed his eyes, falling back to sleep.

::::

Every time he opened his eyes, there was a member of the team present.

First it was JJ; she smiled tearfully at him, taking his hand as he awoke. He managed to stay awake for a full minute, thankfully, before his tired body eased his equally tired mind back into sleep.

::::

Rossi was there the next time he opened his eyes.

"How are you holding up, Kiddo?" he asked.

Reid shrugged. "Alright, considering the circumstances," he admitted quietly. Rossi patted the younger man's shoulder, his eyes glancing at the bed-ridden man.

"You should see the way the nurses dote on you," Rossi joked, gesturing toward the nurses' station across the hall. "I'm convinced this one nurse, Cindy, wants to adopt you."

Reid nodded; his eyes drooping as he once again sank into unconsciousness. "I'll ask her about that," he slurred as darkness took over.

:::

Reid awoke that evening to see Hotch reclining in the chair, staring out the window for a moment, watching the sunset while he spoke on the phone.

"Yeah…" he said. "It was hard for all of us… We're all ready to come home… I've missed him, too, Jess… I'll call later so I can talk to him; I want to do something first," Hotch said suddenly as he glanced toward Reid. "Okay… Yeah, I'll call you then. Bye." He shut the phone, staring at Reid for a moment.

"Are you okay?"

Reid sat up in the bed. "I've been better."

Hotch nodded. Neither of them spoke again for a moment.

It was Hotch that broke the silence.

"I shouldn't have let you go there alone," he whispered. I should've seen the signs earlier."

"Hotch…"

"It was all there in the profile, in the victimology; If I'd seen it sooner… If _we _had seen it sooner…"

"Hotch," Reid cried. "It wasn't your fault; if James Riley hadn't taken me, he probably would have taken another victim, and we would have had another body on our hands. It was no fault of yours. If anything, it was mine."

Hotch shook his head. "Reid, you have no blame in this; you didn't even think that the UnSub may have taken you; we didn't even think that there were multiple UnSubs to begin with."

"But you _did _figure it out," Reid pointed out. "And you did it without my help."

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I just wish we'd done it sooner," he admitted crossly. "It would have saved you a hospital visit."

"JJ told me," Reid replied, leaning back into the pillow as sleep came to him again "They're keeping me overnight for fluids plus another night for observation."

Hotch opened his mouth again, but Reid silenced him with a glare. "It wasn't your fault, Hotch. Stop trying to blame yourself for it, because it won't change what happened. If you want to blame someone, blame James Riley and his motley crew for seeking me out in the first place. I don't want you beating yourself up over this; it's over, I'm here… Everything's going to be fine."

And with that, Reid dropped back to sleep, leaving Hotch with his thoughts.

:::

Reid was startled from sleep by a nightmare. The events of which still haunted his waking mind.

"How're you doing, Reid?" came Emily's voice from somewhere in the darkness. It was night and Spencer was sure that the hospital was silent save for the night staff and patients like himself.

"Alright," he whispered. "You?"

"Right now, I'm just glad you're alive," she answered. "You've been in and out of consciousness all day."

Reid felt a tiny smile come to his face. "I haven't exactly been at a four-star hotel," he joked to his friend. There was a quiet chuckle.

"There's the Reid we know and love," she whispered. "I just didn't expect to see you cracking jokes."

"Just trying to diffuse the tension," he explained.

She took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Just don't go losing an ear in the process. And consider going to sleep; Garcia's going to be here first thing in the morning."

"Is she…?"

"She's okay; she been dying to talk to you all day. Morgan and Hotch had to drag her from the room after visiting hours. I volunteered to stay behind, in case you woke up."

Reid nodded settling back into his pillows. Neither of them spoke for a moment; the room filled with the stillness of their breathing. It was about five minutes before Prentiss spoke again.

"Are you sleeping, Reid?"

"Nope," Reid admitted. "It's… um… it's too dark."

"…Nightlight?"

"That, and a good book to read before I sleep."

She sighed softly, a smile gracing her features. "Lucky for you, I have both," she quipped, taking out a book-light and a small hardcover book.

"I'm sorry, but I'm almost done with it, and I didn't have time to run to a bookstore…"

"It won't take much to send me off," he admitted. "I'm barely awake now."

Okay," she replied, turning on the light and opening the book. Reid fell to sleep before she was halfway done with the first sentence. "'Gatsby believed in the green light….'"

::::

Sunlight streamed through the window, throwing light on Garcia's already sparkling self when next Reid awoke.

"How's my Junior G-Man?" she whispered softly.

"Better than I was yesterday," Reid admitted, attempting to stretch his limbs; he groaned as his bad leg throbbed its displeasure from the past few days of non-usage, combined with the effects of kneeling and being shoved to the ground to support the weight of its owner.

Garcia caught the wince he made, despite his attempt to hide it. "Want me to get the nurse?" she asked soothingly.

Reid shook his head. "I'm fine, Garcia," he whispered, glancing around the room to find…

"Garcia," he gasped. "Wha- How- Did you get all this for me?"

The whole room was lined with shelves of stuffed hospital store toys, flowers and boxes of chocolate.

"Some of it was Emily, JJ and Derek?" she replied unconvincingly.

Reid felt a smile come to his face as he slipped back into oblivion.

::::

Garcia's cheerful face was replaced by Morgan that afternoon.

"Hey, Dorothy," Morgan greeted cheerfully. You back from the land of Oz?" The older man's cheerful tone became a bit more serious as he continued. "You took quite the bump on the head, Pretty Boy."

Reid nodded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Actually," he corrected. "It was a series of bumps on the head over the course of four days as I was beaten by delusional UnSubs who believed they were pirates."

Morgan nodded; Reid saw the grim, stormy look on the man's face but chose to ignore it; Morgan was beating himself up already with Reid's kidnapping, and didn't need the reminder that the profile had been off looming around his head.

"Garcia said it was all four of you who cleaned out the gift shop," he injected.

Morgan stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, an action that Reid felt seemed forced, more for his benefit than true humor. "…Yeah… about that…"

"I knew it," Reid exclaimed, a grin on his face. "I didn't actually believe it, but now that I see your face, I can tell!"

Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay… You win, Pretty Boy."

Reid sank back into the bed, his eyes fluttering closed; those last few conversations had completely drained him.

Morgan clapped him on the shoulder. "Sleep tight, Kid," he whispered, watching his younger friend sleep.

::::

Reid slept through the entire day and long into the night. No one disturbed his slumber; he deserved it.

::::

_All children, except one, grow up. ~James M. Barrie_

...

_A/N: I hate to say it, but... Two more to go! :(_

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers: Noel Ardnek, 68luvcarter, Tinkerbell220, danicalif80, the-vampire-act, GoddessSumizofVenus, SSAFunbar, zannabanana, HannahlovinCM, PottyandWeezlbe89, Reidemption, Laurella, darlene10104, lastbloom and SayidRocks! Thanks, guys!_

_Laurella: Oh, I like that, running an episode AND the move at the same time. I actually just bought the DVD about a week ago or so, and I love it! It'll be around my favorite DVDs for a while! :D_

_Please leave me some reviews; I love hearing feedback!_

_And... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER! ;) I have a Tumble post for it now, too. I'm bookwurm32191 (Same as my Twitter, in case you're wondering)._

_*~N_CBAU~* :D_


	14. Not Vain, But More Humble

_**Hello everyone! Yes, I'm alive; I've just been busy since I last updated...**_

_**There was some mental walls and writer's block when it came to this chapter; I got stuck figuring out what I wanted to write. I had the general idea, but I didn't think I could put it down without sounding sappy. Then my favorite cousin, who is a year older than me, came home and was hospitalized for depression a few weeks ago, so I've been a little put out by that. And then I had midterms... Joy. Four nights of staying up until 4 AM and getting only 3-4 hours of sleep last week. THISB (Thank God It's Spring Break).**_

_**I know you have probably heard this a dozen times, but one more will have to do it: I cried at the end of 'Lauren.' I was BAWLING! It was wonderful, it was sad, it was... OMG, it was a PERFECT send-off for Prentiss/Paget. JJ's short return was wonderful, and the fact that MGG directed was only fitting, and the icing on the cake; he deserved to direct that episode, and he deserves an Emmy for that directing job! (And an Oscar for when his first full-legnth movie comes out). But Doyle got away (NO!) ...Here's to hoping the evil monster comes back for another round so the BAU (And Emily) can put a bullet between his eyes!**_

_**Again, I don't own Criminal Minds! And there's one more chapter after this!**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

A small party of seven made its way toward the elevator a few days later.

To anyone passing by, they would have seemed to be a group of the most unlikely cast of characters to be put together in the same group. Leading the way was a tall, stern man in a business suit, his face set in a scowl, yet the sparkle in his eyes betrayed the joy he felt. Following him was an older Italian –American dressed more casually, but still with an air of business about him. Two women, a blonde in jeans and a tee shirt and a redhead in a brightly colored outfit with matching accents in her hair were a few paces back; the redhead was pushing a hospital-issue wheelchair with a tall, slender young man sitting in it. Part of his face was bruised, his hair was slightly unkempt and underneath the business shirt he wore were countless bandages and gauze to help heal the reminders of a case gone bad. Behind them, bringing up the rear of the small party, were a raven-haired woman and a bald, muscular African-American, who quickly answered his phone.

"Yeah, this is Agent Morgan," he said, glancing around to make sure there were no nurses within the vicinity; they were known for enforcing the "No Cell Phone" policy with an iron fist here. "Are you sure?" he asked, earning a look from his companion. "And he… Wait, so he tried before with his hook because of a rookie mistake?" There was a pause. "But then he smashed his head into the wall of his holding cell…" Morgan winced, gritting his teeth slightly. "And you already told the nephew? Do you want us to come down and….Are you sure?" By now the rest of the party was looking at Morgan with some confusion.

At this point, another wheelchair-bound figure had joined the group, having been wheeled from his room by a nurse, who glared at Morgan and his cell phone with a sour expression.

"Alright, thank you for everything, and….Yeah, he's doing well; he was just released, and we'll be heading to the airstrip in a couple minutes….No, but thank you; we're glad we could be of assistance." He hung up, tucking his phone into his belt before turning to the rest of the team. "That was Officer Jones."

"What happened," Hotch asked.

Morgan shrugged. "They couldn't get to you or Rossi, so they called me. James Riley bashed his head into the wall of his holding cell. When medics arrived, it was also discovered the he'd slit his wrist with his hook, which was still on his left hand."

"So, he's dead?" Johnny asked from his wheelchair, Reid also looked up at Morgan from the confines of his own wheelchair, eyebrow raised.

Morgan nodded in confirmation. "Orlando P.D said that we should just head on home; they'll take care of the paperwork so Johnny doesn't have to worry about it; Johnny can do whatever he feels would be his uncle's last wish, and he won't have to pay a dime. They know he has enough to deal with, as do we."

"Are you ready to go, Angelfish?" Garcia asked Reid, ruffling his head as the others made their way to the elevator

"Yeah," Reid admitted, attempting to duck away from Garcia's hand, despite the grin that made its way onto his face at the gesture. "Can I just- have a moment with Johnny?"

Garcia nodded leaving them alone for a moment while she went back to the front desk to grab the large paper bag full of stuffed animals that Rossi had left for her when they'd packed Reid's room up.

Johnny smiled at Reid as he turned to face the younger man. "I like her," Johnny said. "She really seems to care about you and the rest of your team."

Reid smiled. "She's Garcia," he replied. "She's our best friend, Mother Hen, confidant, Tech Goddess of the Information Superhighway…" he paused, trying to find another way to describe Garcia.

"She has an infectious personality," Johnny added with a smile.

Reid nodded. "I'm sorry about your uncle," he whispered.

Johnny shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry," he replied somberly. "To be honest, he was already gone before you even met him. I lost him the day he lost my aunt and Danny. It's good to know that he can finally be at peace."

"What will you do now?" Reid asked, already concerned for the younger man before him.

"I'll probably have him cremated, and throw his ashes into the sea," Johnny admitted. "Then, I'll probably start my book."

Reid gaped in amazement. "Already? Wow, that… that's amazing."

Johnny shrugged. "I've had the idea for a while now. I just want to ask you one thing." Reid nodded, gesturing at him to continue. "I was wondering if it would be possible for me to use your name in my book."

Reid nodded. "I'd be honored," he replied, voice full of gratitude.

::::

The jet was airborne, making its way toward Washington DC and home.

Hotch and Rossi dozed in the back of the plane, while Prentiss and JJ dozed at the larger table in the middle of the jet. Morgan was reclining across from the couch; his iPod's earbuds were in his ear and music was playing, but his hand wasn't tapping to the beat, but rather limply resting on his lap. The one still-awake member of the team was resting in his favorite part of the jet, already preparing to join his friends in Dreamland.

Reid smiled at his sleeping teammates as he too stretched out on the couch, trying not to disturb his stab wounds. Unconsciously, his hand drifted to the long, thin box lying next to him, where the sword he'd used to defeat Captain Hook sat. Orlando PD had released it from evidence since there was no longer a need for a trial against James Riley. However, the same could not be said for the rest of his crew. Even though they had never actually killed the victims, they could still be charged as accessories to torture and murder.

But Reid wasn't too worried about that; the men had all pled guilty to the charges, and would go to jail for a long time. Instead, Reid mused about how eager he was to read Johnny's book when it came out as he closed his eyes.

….

_The praise that comes from love does not make us vain, but more humble. ~James M. Barrie_

….

_A/N: On a happier note, my birthday was Monday of this past week; good-bye teenage years, hello 20! :D_

_Thanks to my wonderful and lovely reviewers: lolyncut, zannabanana, 68luvcarter, Reidemption, Noel Ardnek, darlene10104, The-Vampire-Act, Tinkerbell220, SSAFunbar, Integer, Laurella, GoddessSumizofVenus, and SayidRocks! Thank you for sticking with me! :D_

_Integer: So true; bless his sweet little genius heart! I hope you liked this chapter! ;)_

_And for those of you who are interested, I have another story up; an AU fic starring Morgan and Reid as kids in the WPP. It's called "Guardian Angels are Protecting Me," and will be getting my attention as soon as I post the last chapter for this fic. So if you liked this, go check it out; I should have another chapter up for it soon! :)_

_One more chapter after this; it's actually nearly done, so I might just post it this week... I'm really gonna miss this story! :'(_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	15. Epilogue: The Stories

_**This story is the longest one I have ever published... Just saying. 15 chapters! That is... Wow... I'm sorry to see it go... :'( **_

_**I hope you all enjoyed it; I know I had fun writing it! And I loved all your reviews! I seriously hope you check out some of my other stories and tell me what you think!**_

_**Once again, Criminal Minds isn't mine! I own a Tshirt with the team, and I have a copy of Season 5. AND I follow the cast on Twitter and Facebook, and admittedly reblog everthing MGG posts on Tumblr (And I regret nothing!). And yes, I MAY be posting this fic on Tumblr, too, if anyone is interested.**_

….

_The pen is mightier than the sword. ~Benjamin Franklin_

_**Eight Months Later**_

The elevator doors opened, revealing Spencer Reid clutching a cup of coffee and his leather satchel. He took a deep breath as he exited the elevator, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder so it didn't lie over the scar from James Riley's hook.

After his death, news of James Riley and his crimes had spread far and wide. A serial killer hunting around Orlando, Florida who dressed like Captain Hook had become huge news. The fact that he had kidnapped his own nephew and an FBI agent only added to his fame; the case was going down in the history books as "The Never Land Murders," despite the FBI and the Orlando PD trying to subdue the stories and not give the reporters and the world a chance to give Riley the same name as Manson, or even the Boston Reaper.

Meanwhile, it had been eight months since Orlando. Eight months since he had last seen Johnny, since the younger man had asked him for permission to use the profiler's name in the book he was publishing. Since the case, the team had picked up a new member of the team; while Ashley Seaver wasn't an experienced agent, she was a fresh set of eyes, a young woman willing to prove herself in the field.

Then, four months ago, he had found an email in his inbox from Johnny's email. All it had said was _Done! _

Two weeks later, it was announced that one of the survivors of The Never Land Murders had written a book, and that it would be published shortly. Reid hadn't heard anything else, except for glowing advance reviews from _The New York Times, The Philadelphia Enquirer, the Los Angeles Times _and other major papers; Reid hadn't read them, feeling that he should read the book when it came to him instead of taking the word of a major newspaper.

Now, as he walked out and made his way toward the glass doors that led into the bullpen, he heard the sound of high heels tick-tacking on the tile floor. He turned toward the sound to see Garcia bustling toward him, dressed in a bright purple dress with a matching purple flower and necklace. Her shoes were also purple, with sparkling purple sequins shimmering on their surface.

"Morning, Sunshine!" she crowed, stretching up to give him a kiss; he quickly leaned down to receive it on the cheek. He straightened up to see her smiling at him.

"Hey, Garcia," he mumbled, grinning back at her.

She chuckled, grabbing his arm and leading him into the bullpen. "You know, Boy Wonder," she said. "I heard from a little birdie in the mail office named Robin that you got a great big package from someone."

Reid stared at her as she walked him toward his desk. "What package?" he asked. "Do you know who it's from?"

"I'm not telling, Baby Boy," Garcia admitted, "But once you see the postmark, I'm sure you will figure it out for yourself." With that, she gently nudged him toward his desk, gesturing toward it with her free hand.

Usually the desk was covered in the usual decorations, case files, books and loose papers with the occasional disposable cup of Starbucks coffee. Today, these things littered the surface as usual, but there was an addition in the form of a large brown cardboard box perched in the heart of the desk next to the computer.

Spencer eyed the large cardboard box that now sat on his desk. He looked down at the return address, grinning as he recognized the Orlando address.

"I know what this is," he whispered. Seaver looked confused.

"Wha-?" she began, but Reid ignored her, taking the scissors on his desk and ripping through the packing tape.

"Is that what I think it is?" Morgan asked, looking up at the sound of tape ripping. Prentiss came over from the kitchen, a cup of coffee in her hands.

"Oh my God," she whispered, eyes shining. "It is! It comes out today; I heard them talking about it on TV this morning!"

Reid opened the box to reveal four stacks of 15 books, all with the same image of a pirate ship on a calm ocean, with lights shining from the portholes. Behind the ship was an island, a dark shape to the reader, but only so the reader could imagine for themselves what the island looked like. In front of the ship was a smaller schooner with two figures sitting in it. One was rowing the small boat, while the other held a small lantern, appearing to be in the action of using it to light their way.

Reid picked up one sitting on the top with a yellow Post-it on the front; there were only two words written on the yellow paper stuck to the cover: "Spencer's Copy." He pulled it from the cover to reveal the title of the book blazing from the front in large golden letters, with the author's name in smaller, plainer print just below.

_**Hook or Me This Time!**_

_**Johnny D. Riley **_

Reid opened the inside flap to read the synopsis, the binding crackling as he began to read:

**Peter Pan is Missing!**

**The Island of Never Land is in chaos. Peter has vanished without a trace, and the Lost Boys are frantic as they search for their leader, fearing the worst. Meanwhile, Captain Hook and his band of pirates are closing ranks on the island, hoping to overtake it with the absence of their enemy. Now the fate of Never Land rests on the shoulders of two boys: Daniel, who hasn't had the chance to grow up, and Spencer, who grew up sooner than he should have. Two unlikely heroes, one amazing adventure, and an unforgettable friendship.**

Reid turned the page to the title page, where a note had been written:

"_Spencer, this book was written because of you. Thank you for everything. And turn the page; you earned it. ~Johnny"_

Reid turned the page to find the dedication page, where he read:

_**In memory of my brother Danny, who should have had the chance to read this book. And to Spencer… A hero, a friend and one of the bravest and smartest people I know. Thank you for your support and your name; without you, this story would never have been written. ~Johnny.**_

Spencer smiled as he turned the page again; for the rest of the day, that smile would never leave his face, as he began to read the story he had been a part of…

"Spencer Jones opened his eyes to find himself washed up on a pristine beach…"

Prentiss had also picked up a copy and was now reading the first chapter. "I love this story already," she whispered, glancing up to see the joyfully sparkling eyes of her teammate as he turned page after page… after page.

::::

_Do you know… why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories._ _~James M. Barrie_

**FIN**

….

_A/N: **sobs** And that's the end of it._

_Again, THANK YOU for reading, alerting and favoriting this story; I love you all so much!_

_Thank you to these people whose words of praise allowed me to keep this stor going: SayidRocks, zannabanana, RIPCURL. aus, The-Vampire-Act, lolyncut, RogueSquirrel, RavenParadox, SSAFunbar, TheOneThatIsAddidctedToHPFics, Noel Ardnek, 68luvcarter, KASEY64, Noel Ardnek, danicalif80, PinkHimeLacus, amomentintime3, pottyandweezlby89, Juliette Shane, Integer, HannahlovinCM, MKatM, Laurella,LionInAComa, ZuZu-Chan, cookiemonster328, Cause. A. Scene, GoddessSumizofVenus, shotforthesky, Prieva,darlene10104, Tinkerbell220, lastbloomand CJaMes12. If I missed a name, I apologize, and thank you so very much! :D_

_And thank you to last chapter's AWESOME reviewers! Reidemption, zannabanana, CJaMes12, 68luvcarter, the-vampire-act, Tinkerbell220, NoelArdnek, SayidRocks, SSAFunbar, Laurella, and danicalif80!_

_Laurella: Thank you! That was actually going to be my original ending, but then I really wanted to see how Johnny was coping, hence the idea for this chapter. I hope you liked it! :D_

_Thank you very much!_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


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